My students taught me a phrase: “이빵꾸똥꾸야!” They said it means you hate something – the thing you’re talking to – a kind of vocative “I hate you.”
But a little bit of looking around the internet adds some information. It’s “little-kid” talk, originated in a TV show from a few years ago. And roughly, its more literal meaning might be “you farty butt.”
Great thing to know how to say.
I drew some comic characters today.
What I’m listening to right now.
Icon of Coil, “Love As Blood (Implant Remix).”
[UPDATE 2020-03-21: link rot repair]
Category: Background Noise
Caveat: Upgrade Personality
I have upgraded my personality.
Not really. I upgraded my phone, though. My coworker friend Ken gave me a hand-me-down 3G Samsung Galaxy Tab phone.
It’s huge. Well, for a phone…. For a Linux computer, it’s pretty small.
I have to figure it out. I’m trying – but if someone calls me in the next few days and I fumble the call, please be forgiving.
Here’s the new phone alongside the old phone. The old phone is known among my students as the “haraboji-phone” (haraboji means “grandfather”).
What I’m listening to right now.
The Limousines, “The Future.” Cool video, too.
Caveat: Reagan’s Skeleton
Getting into the Halloween spirit, this is a truly interesting, funny, Halloweeny song.
Reagan’s skeleton is leading armies of zombies – maybe near Ventura, which sorta makes sense.
What I’m listening to right now.
Yeasayer, “Reagan’s Skeleton.” Lyrics:
Down in a hole outside of Ventura
low and behold, found beauty
I said I’ve never seen a red head come boast just like that
She said outside, got something to seeWe walked a quiet road for miles at first
Couldn’t see a thing
Rattle from the dark, chills up my spine
Coming from the trees ohThat’s Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies of undeadThat’s Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies in a fog eternallyMust of passed out – when I came to I’m tied up,
To my surprise, by the young lady
And as her face grew sick her nails tore out my heart
Blood trickled down, economicallyThe laughter from the dark was low at first
But what came could call for me
I recognise the stench of burning flesh
As they began to feed ohOn Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies of undeadThat’s Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies in a fog eternallyGawker, horror, what an awful way to fall in love
Gawker, horror, what an awful way to fall in loveThat’s Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies of undeadThat’s Reagan’s skeleton, in the moonlight
Don’t fear the red eyes, fear the satellite overhead
That’s Reagan’s skeleton, marching our way
Sentimental violence, leading his armies in a fog eternally
Caveat: how deliciously meaningless
I stayed very late at work, talking about stuff with the boss. I think the post-merger situation isn't all good. I don't know what solutions are possible – the big players in the market seem to be engaging in price-war: they're undercutting the tuition of the smaller hagwon. Whether this is sustainable or not, I can't guess. The staff at "KarmaPlus" isn't really cohering into a single team. How does one make this happen? I don't know.
What I'm listening to right now.
Magnetic Fields, "Meaningless."
Lyrics:
Meaningless?
You mean it's all been meaningless?
Every whisper and caress?
Yes yes yes it was totally meaningless
Meaningless
like when two fireflies flouresce
Just like everything I guess
Less less yes, it was utterly meaningless
Even less
a little glimpse of nothingness
sucking meaning from the
rest of this mess
Yes yes yes it was thoroughly meaningless
and if some dim bulb should say
we were in love in some way
kick all his teeth in for me
and if you feel like keeping on kicking,
feel free
Meaningless
Who dare say it wasn't meaningless?
Shout from the rooftops
and address the press
Ha ha ha, it was totally meaningless
Meaningless
Meaning less than a game of chess
Just like your mother said
and mother knows best
I knew it all the time but now I confess
Yes yes yes how deliciously meaningless
Yes yes yes effervescently meaningless
Yes yes yes it was beautifully meaningless
Yes yes yes it was profoundly meaningless
Yes yes yes definatively meaningless
Yes yes yes comprehensively meaningless
Yes yes yes magnificently meaningless
Yes yes yes how incredibly meaningless
Yes yes yes unprecedentedly meaningless
Yes yes yes how mind-blowingly meaningless
Yes yes yes how unbelievably meaningless
Yes yes yes how infinitely meaningless
Caveat: Ghanian Pop
If I ever went to Africa, Ghana is one of the countries that most interests me. I can’t really explain why – it’s partly related to my econo-geekery: Ghana is a remarkable economic success story, in many respects, in a region replete with disasters. That, in and of itself, is interesting. But as the culture grows more prosperous, it takes on the trappings of the globalized bourgeois everywhere. One aspect: pop music and videos.
I spent part of the afternoon yesterday watching Ghanian music videos. This behavior is inexplicable.
What I’m listening to right now.
Becca, “Daa Ke Daa.”
And meanwhile, reading Henry James. Why did I ever dislike this author?
Caveat: ♡copyheart (meant ironically)
… with a side-dish of irony.
About a week ago I posted a video by Nina Paley. That discovery led me to her website / blog. Her pet cause is the madness of current intellectual property laws – so she immediately won a place in my heart. A notable quote:
“What do religious fundamentalists and big media corporations have in common? They believe that they own culture.” – Nina Paley.
Her interest in and advocacy for alternatives to the copyright regimen we all suffer under arose because she made a professional feature-length movie by herself over a period of years, only to essentially be blocked by the fact that the movie relied on still-copyrighted music from the 1930s that she’d perhaps assumed was public domain. The movie itself is awesome. It’s called Sita Sings the Blues – you can get the full story at her relevant posts on her blog.
Her attention has lately turned to a reconceptualization of copyright that I find much more compelling than the fairly established “copyleft” associated with the free software movement: she calls it “♡copyheart.” It’s cool. I may even put a ♡copyheart at the bottom of my blog at some point.
Nobody owns culture. She made a song called “Copying is not theft.”
Actually, although I thought Paley did an artistic and masterful job with her sequences involving the 1930s music by jazz singer Annette Hanshaw, those weren’t my favorite tracks from the movie. My favorite musical track and video sequence was the part called “Agni Pariksha (Sita’s Fire),” which is accompanied by a song by Todd Michaelsen, sung by Reena Shah. It took me more than a little bit of googling to figure that out – it wasn’t immediately transparent on her various websites.
Here’s the thing – the irony, if you will: I decided I liked that Todd Michaelsen song enough that I “wanted” it. I sort of assumed that, given it was part of this copyheart-advocating artist, that I’d surely find it downloadable, somewhere, But I didn’t. Really, I didn’t. When I went to use one of the free youtube-to-mp3 conversion utilities, to “capture” the audio stream from the youtube video, I got this message:
Google doesn’t block the youtube copywidgets unless it’s getting takedown pressure from the copyright holder in question – this means that Todd Michaelsen or someone connected to him is specifically not allowing youtube users full access to the work.
That’s the irony – that the one song in Paley’s work that I decided I wanted, I couldn’t get. Paying for Michaelsen’s song was literally not an option – because of my nefarious South Korean IP address, getting the credit card checkout widget to work on US-based websites is sometimes unreliable, because US banking websites shove South Korean IP addresses into a “probably evil fraudsters” bucket along with most other “Asian-except-Japan” addresses; either that, or they force you to a Korean-language- and Korean-bank based site that then requires a Korean credit card. What’s often impossible is using a US credit card on a US site from South Korea. I really did intend to buy his “soundtrack” to Sita Sings the Blues.
Of course, I’m technically savvy enough that using other means to capture the song stream in question was pretty trivial. But still. I’m just sayin’.
What I’m listening to right now.
Todd Michaelson, Reena Shah, Laxmi Shah, “Agni Pariksha.”
Caveat: Cough-ka-cough
Reading Coleridge, and that Natsume novel about the cat.
I ate some chamchi jumokbap. Terrible headcold. Grr. Cough-ka-cough.
Interesting how when I'm sick, I always 'save' the worst of it for my weekends. I'm such a hopeless workaholic.
What I'm listening to right now.
Yeasayer, "Fingers Never Bleed."
Caveat: corazón de vidrio
Muy extraña experiencia:
Estaba caminando de regreso a casa y salió en mi mp3player la canción “Heart of Glass” de Blondie. Pues, me puso a pensar en el cuento “El licenciado vidriera” de Cervantes – por el “corazón de vidrio,” por supuesto. “El licenciado vidriera” es el cuento corto cervantino que más me interesa – sin duda es el gérmen del Quijote.
El hombre, por un hechizo, contrae una locura:
… loco dela mas estraña locura, que entre las locuras hasta entonces se auia visto. Imaginose el desdichado, que era todo hecho de vidrio, y con esta imaginacion, quando alguno se llegaua a el, daua terribles vozes, pidiendo, y suplicando con palabras, y razones concertadas, que no se le acercassen, porque le quebrarian, que real, y verdaderamente el no era como los otros hombres, que todo era de vidrio de pies a cabeça. Para sacarle desta estraña imaginacion, muchos, sin atender a sus vozes, y rogatiuas arremetieron a el, y le abraçaron, diziendole, que aduirtiesse, y mirasse, como no se quebraua. Pero lo que se grangeaua en esto era, que el pobre se echaua en el suelo, dando mil gritos, y luego le tomaua vn desmayo, del qual no boluia en si en quatro horas: y quando boluia, era renouando las plegarias, y rogatiuas, de que otra vez no le llegassen. – Miguel de Cervantes, “El licenciado vidriera,” (1613).
Así la conexión entre la literatura española del siglo de oro y la música “disco” de los 1980.
Lo que estoy escuchando en este momento.
Blondie, “Heart of Glass.”
Lyrics.
Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like the real thing, only to find
Mucho mistrust, love’s gone behindOnce I had a love and it was divine
Soon found out I was losing my mind
Seemed like the real thing but I was so blind
Mucho mistrust, love’s gone behindIn between what I find is pleasing and I’m feeling fine
Love is so confusing
There’s no peace of mind
If I fear I’m losing you it’s just no good
You teasing like you doOnce I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like the real thing, only to find
Mucho mistrust, love’s gone behindLost inside, adorable illusion
And I cannot hide
I’m the one you’re using
Please don’t push me aside
We coulda made it cruising, yeahYeah, riding high on love’s true bluish light
Ooh, ooh, whoa, oh
Ooh, ooh, whoa, oh
Ooh, ooh, whoa, oh
Ooh, ooh, whoa, ohOnce I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like the real thing, only to find
Mucho mistrust, love’s gone behindIn between what I find is pleasing and I’m feeling fine
Love is so confusing
There’s no peace of mind
If I fear I’m losing you it’s just no good
You teasing like you do
Caveat: You set out each day / Never to arrive
What I'm listening to right now.
Dr Dog, "That Old Black Hole."
Lyrics:
I put on my clothes like a body guard
I put the dogs on patrol in my own back yard
I don't wanna fight but I'm constantly ready
And I don't rock the boat, but it's always unsteadyThere's an elephant in my head
And I tip toe around it
There are eggshells on the floor
Therefore I never touch the groundIt's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try,
You set out each day
Never to arriveI got my eyes on the prize
But it looks just like a mystery
And it all goes by on the lonesome trail to victory
I'm drawing in the blinds, I got my own four walls
And the show really starts once the curtain fallsTake this thorn from my side
Fix this chip on my shoulder
Time is racing with the clock
And I ain't getting any olderIt's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try.It's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try.It's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try,
You set out each day
Never to arriveI put on my finest thread
And I wrap up my body tight
With the sun in my eyes
I step into the nightLike the mystery in the dark
Oh, it's just another kind of lightI don't expect you to believe me
But everything is alright
I don't make rules for a living
I don't do tricks for a dimeI was born on a good day,
Deaf, dumb and blind.
Who am I to tell the truth?
I don't even know what it is.I don't know how to say it but I know that I can show you.
I don't know how to say it but I know that I can show you.I tie my boots up tight
And I head straight for bed
There's a pistol and a crystal
Underneath my pillowThere's a tender heart
Inside that ugly armadillo
"These are tears of joy,"
Cried the weeping willowThere's a spirit in the air
And there ain't no way around it
I was not prepared to lose it
On the moment that I found itIt's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try.It's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try.It's like that old black hole,
No matter how you try,
You set out each day
Never to arrive
Caveat: Sweetest Coma Again
The weather is starting to feel like fall. I have to work this morning. I'm feeling gloomy.
What I'm listening to right now.
LUNA SEA, "Sweetest Coma Again."
Uhm. Japanese rock.
Caveat: Pathos
An 8 year old girl writes this in her "essay book" – a kind of weekly diary entry for intermediate students. I present it uncorrected.
Today my mom is angry. Because I make my mom is angry, my mom is very angry. My sister and I am scary. My mom is angry I cry. When my mom is angry she hit something. So sister and I am very scary. I think 'I didn't make my mom angry.' And I really promise I didn't make my mom angry. ㅠㅠ
Note that the use of the past tense "didn't make my mom angry" probably is meant to reflect a hoped-for state, as "I wish I hadn't made my mom angry," as it seems to sometimes be used in Korean.
I feel some pathos for the girl's situation.
What I'm listening to right now.
Parov Stelar, "My Inner Me (feat. Phoebe Hall)."
Caveat: Not really an octopus, a Wax Tailor Octopus
It only has four legs. It’s a quadropus. Maybe. It’s kind of cute, though. Cool video.
What I’m listening to right now.
Wax Tailor (aka Jean-Christophe Le Saoût), “Time to Go (feat. Aloe Blacc).”
Also, by the same artist, this amazing track:
Wax Tailor, “We Be (feat. Ursula Rucker).”
Lyrics:
Watts Prophets :
I look at the moon so full and so bright
And then at the fireplace with it flickering light
And realised why this world would never be right
Then I through another lump on the fireUrsula Rucker :
We be, uh huh
We be, hmm hmmWe be
Travelling down the highway of the enemy
We be
Joining the endless convoy of cultural hegemony
We be
Missing the forest for the trees ’cause
We can’t see the evils that men do on TV
In the movies, overseas and right here on our streets
We be
Opting for vain glory over humility
We need, we need to break the convoy line
Get the hell off the highway
Take the road less travelled
‘Cause that moral fiber you thought was so tightly woven
It’s unravelling, it’s unravelled
I hate to tell y’all, it’s unravelledWatts Prophets :
Why do you insist on keeping us caged
You know all that does intensified rage
The world know this is the time
And all power to the people
Power to the peopleUrsula Rucker :
We be
Say, I’m standing on my soapbox again
Say, I’m one of those conscious artist
Talking that “change the world” shit again
Say, I might be just a bit too dramatic
Slash overzealous about what I see
As the human spirit’s dive into uncertainty
Say what you like, say what you like
‘Cause I’ll be all those things you say
All night and all day
Before I allow myself and soul
To wither away into, indistinctness
Live a half-life of blissfull ignorance
Never take another chance, another chance
Do the latest dance with the devil
And lose my dreams for all we could be
Lose my dreams for all we could be
We beWatts Prophets :
Why do you insist on keeping us caged
You know all that does intensified rage
The world know this is the time
And all power to the people
Power to the peopleUrsula Rucker :
We be
Many, so many
Many, like the number of death threats
That now come used to getWe be
Many, oh so many
Many, like the multitude of souls lost in the wars of men
Over gold, over power, over die and hateWe be
Many, so so many
Many, like the lies of pell the truth
The coward lies of profits and power bungers
Told to a cryer faith
To steal land to oppressed people
We be, the oppressed peoplesWe be
We be
Why can’t we be
More peaceful
Why can’t we be
Nicer to one another
Why can’t we be
We be
What we were meant to be
LoveWatts Prophets :
Why do you insist on keeping us caged
You know all that does intensified rage
The world know this is the time
And all power to the people
Power to the peopleUrsula Rucker :
We be
We be, uh huh, hmm, hmm
Caveat: Голубая тетрадь
Голубая тетрадь
Жил один рыжий человек,
у которого не было глаз и ушей. У него
не было и волос, так что рыжим его называли
условно.
Говорить он не мог, так как у
него не было рта. Носа тоже у него не
было.
У него не было даже рук и ног. И
живота у него не было, и спины у него не
было, и хребта у него не было, и никаких
внутренностей у него не было. Ничего не
было! Так что непонятно, о ком идет
речь.
Уж лучше мы о нем не будем больше
говорить.– Даниил Иванович Хармс
(1937)
Blue
NotebookOnce there lived a red-haired man who lacked eyes and
ears.
Ha was also lacking all hair, so he was called red-haired
only with a large degree of
generalization.
He couldn’t speak,
as he was lacking a mouth. The same with his nose.
Even arms and
legs, he just didn’t have any. Nor stomach, nor backside, nor
spine.
And no intestine. He didn’t have anything! Therefore it is
totally
unclear who is being discussed.
In fact, let’s not talk
about him anymore.– Daniil Khams (translation
unattributed but link provided)
My Russian is so rusty that I really can’t read it. But it’s entertaining to try.
What I’m listening to right now.
Trentemøller, “Miss You.”
Caveat: Image going down, down, down
Tiktok is the clockwork man of Oz. I read all the Oz stories when I was younger – actually mostly as an adolescent rather than as a child – and they influenced me profoundly.
Recently, having finished Wind in the Willows in my story-reading section too quickly (relative to the assigned syllabus), I was forced to find some short text to function as filler for the class. I settled on something from Oz. Most of the Oz books are available online, even with original illustrations: there’s a collection of shorter Oz stories at the Project Gutenberg website.
So we’re reading “Tiktok and the Nome King,” a story of about 10 pages when you print out the HTML. The language in these original, un-bowdlerized versions is pretty challenging for a group of 5th and 6th grade Korean ESL kids, but they seem to find the story compelling enough, especially given the pictures, to plow through it. Tiktok was always one of my favorite Oz characters, and there’s something especially fascinating by this thoroughly futuristic clockwork man having been conceptualized 100 years ago (I believe this particular story is exactly 100 years old this year).
I have been trying to teach the kids how to write a coherent summary. Sort of approaching it as a paraphrasing exercise with subsequent condensing and shrinking. I think that paraphrasing is, in some ways, the single most important writing skill a teacher can impart, and goes to the core of what competency in a foreign language represents, too. Well, actually, not just in a foreign language – in fact, I’ve reached the conclusion that it’s actually easier to teach paraphrasing in ESL than in native-language language-arts classes – because the students have the ability to sort of do a “round trip translation” in their heads – they can translate from English to their native language and back again, retaining the sense or meaning of it. This is a mental processing tool not available to monolinguals. I’ll have more to say about this, later, sometime. It’s been on my mind a lot, lately.
What I’m listening to right now.
[Update 2017-06-02: Link rot repaired.]
America, “Tin Man.” It matches the above theme, and also fits in with the nostalgia kick that this weekend has been – old music and reading history books all weekend, as I battle this really annoying flu-like-thing that attacked me last week.
Lyrics:
Sometimes late when things are real and people share the gift of gab between themselves
Some are quick to take the bait and catch the perfect prize that waits among the shelvesBut Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn’t, didn’t already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad
So please believe in meWhen I say I’m spinning round, round, round, round
Smoke glass stain bright color
Image going down, down, down, down
Soapsuds green like bubblesOh, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn’t, didn’t already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir GalahadSo please believe in me
When I say I’m spinning round, round, round, round
Smoke glass stain bright color
Image going down, down, down, down
Soapsuds green like bubblesNo, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn’t, didn’t already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir GalahadSo please believe in me
Caveat: “Hard To Say I’m Sorry”
Lately I’ve been feeling my age. This is especially hard when I spent most of my days in the company of junior high and elementary students. Nothing hammers home to me how long I’ve been around as hearing some kind of retrospective on the radio and realizing that a song that was number one on the billboard charts 30 years ago is part of my mental soundtrack – yes, I listened to a lot of pop radio in high school. And I had bought this album – it was part of my record collection that I later abandoned in my apartment in… Chicago – when I moved to Mexico City in 1986.
What I’m listening to right now.
Chicago, “Hard To Say I’m Sorry.”
Lyrics:
Everybody needs a little time away
I heard her say, from each other
Even lovers need a holiday
Far away from each otherHold me now
It’s hard for me
To say I’m sorry
I just want you to stayAfter all that
We’ve been through
I will make it up to you
I promise toAnd after all that’s
Been said and done
You’re just the part of me
I can’t let goCouldn’t stand to be kept away
Just for the day, from your body
Wouldn’t wanna be swept away
Far away from the one that I loveHold me now
It’s hard for me
To say I’m sorry
I just want you to knowHold me now
I really want to
Tell you I’m sorry
I could never let you goAfter all that
We’ve been through
I will make it up to you
I promise toAnd after all that’s
Been said and done
You’re just the part of me
I can’t let goAfter all that
We’ve been through
I will make it up to you
I promise toYou’re gonna be the lucky one
[This below is the part that was always cut off on the radio-play – a bit dissonant with the rest]
When we get there
Gonna jump in the air
No one’ll see us
Cause there’s nobody thereAfter all, you know
We really don’t care
Hold on, I’m gonna take you there
Caveat: Oldschool KRap
KRap is what I call Korean rap. I just like that it comes out that way, I’m not making a value judgment.
What I’m listening to right now.
서태지, “컴백홈” [Come Back Home]. This is from 1995, which in Korean pop musical terms is about 200 years ago. Note how the Cypress Hill-y cadences have carried over into Korean quite well.
Caveat: Listless Hint of Fall
I’ve been feeling listless the last few days. Not much energy, despite sleeping more than usual. Perhaps it’s the transition in seasons that one can sort of feel in the air – lower humidity, slightly cooler weather, despite the hurricane (aka typhoon) at the beginning of the week.
What I’m listening to right now.
Röyksopp, “The Girl and the Robot.” The video is kind of weird, and seems to have a strange 80s vibe to it – perhaps it’s the woman’s hairstyle or something.
Caveat: Problem 63
I was reading a very funny list of speculation regarding Jay-Z’s 99 problems.
As a sample, here is item 63:
Worries about experience of no sense of ‘place’ or ‘home’; feelings of belonging ‘nowhere,’ esp. in regard to American and European cities which lead to a sort of uncanny experience of ‘floating’ and meaninglessness at each house purchased.
I recommend the entire list.
What I’m listening to right now.
Jay-Z, “99 Problems.”
Caveat: Catgroovy Sunday Banality
I went out to lunch with a friend today and we had a kind of Thai fusion food at a restaurant inside the "New Core" mall that's between Jeongbalsan and Madu stations on the subway, here in Ilsan. It wasn't bad, but it left me mostly craving more authentic Thai cuisine. My friend and I decided maybe next time, we could go to the Thai restaurant I remember at the WesternDom mall.
I tried to study Korean today, for a good portion of the day. I'm not feeling very diligent, though.
Supposedly, we're getting another typhoon tomorrow. It looks big on the weather map, but after the last one I'm sceptical. The rain has already started.
I recently discovered some new music that interests me. It seems to be related to (or descended from?) a 90s trend that was called Chicago Swing House, a sort of re-imagining of 30s era swing music combined with contemporary electronica house or club music production styles. One artist that I was liking is called Parov Stelar. And then I was looking for a track to put here on this here blog thingy and I found this wacky amazing dancing guy in his basement.
What I'm listening to right now.
Parov Stelar, "Catgroove."
Caveat: Spagga aka El Presidente de hip-hop
Just now, I received a comment on a youtube video I’d made a few years back to go with a track that I liked, by a New York latin-rap group called Spagga & La Raza, that I hadn’t been able to find online. Here’s what the comment said:
wow…..That was one of the first songs i wrote. Thanks whoever you are for bringing me back to reality!
Spagga
This seems to indicate that the actual artist commented on my youtube piratification of his song, in a positive way. I’m deeply impressed. He’s just acquired a much more dedicated fan. This is the spirit in which I wish all artists would view the youtubification of their work.
What I’m listening to right now.
[UPDATE: myspace is broken (go figure). Unable to find replacement track online. Yay internet.]
Spagga aka El Presidente de Hip-Hop, “la vida.” De su myspace – warning: it opens a new tab or window if you click it. The myspace player is a little bit annoying. But it’s ok.
Caveat: I am a brief flash, the abstract
Dang if I’m not utterly blown-over-infatuated with this track, at the moment.
I basically have been listening to it all day. More than that, I’ve been reading the lyrics, too – like I would study a new, compelling poem. This is rap/hip-hop at the level of lyric poetry – in my opinion, of course: musical tastes are entirely subjective. But even if you don’t like the track, read the poetry. It’s good. That good, in my opinion: half cinema-noir, half lucid gnostic fantasy, a kind of philosophical dreamscape littered with the detritus of too much living.
What I’m listening to right now.
Doomtree, “Beacon.”
Doomtree is from Minneapolis. There’s an official video that goes with the song, but I don’t actually like the video, so I found a non-official recording with just the album cover for the youtube, above. I would urge you NOT to watch the official video, until after you’ve listened a few times, and read the lyrics, and formed your own opinion about what the song is about – the video cheapens the narrative. It doesn’t fit. I’m very glad I didn’t watch the video the first time I heard the track.
Lyrics.
[Dessa]
I took it for a kiss, but it couldn’t have been, could it?
I see now what it is, we were just biting the same bullet
You called it in the air
it landed it on its edge
when the crowd gathers around
you turn tail
I turn heads
Shavin down the puzzle piece
tryna make a clean fit
Take what is lovely
leave before the rain hits
It’s a heartbreaker for starters, as you age not too much changes
practice doesn’t make perfect, just makes the game more dangerous[Stef]
Start repo
negative sleep nauseous
barf party for sure
intelligent creep stalking awkward
Flush flustered rush for doors
advance fire-plan
handy with the way out
routes explored
Cover catching up
careful with your care
We don’t go there, naw
We keep locks and keys steadily swallowed
never be followed, none of em dare
Channel up your anger leave it here
kindly disappear
Mind your mannerisms
I can’t be flattered back
The patterns the concern
lessons prolly turned to fact
By now you’d surely drown yourself
before you’d help me with this sail
I’m the wind
crossed fingers for the win
Up to ten til they hammer in the very last nail
Challenging like every last stalemate
Deal… with it
No mission ends
Precision lack of friends
Happily recommend nothing to no one, ever[Cecil]
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home[Cecil]
You know your way home?
You gonna be all right?
Yeah, but I had faith that you’d see the light
and ride with me or kiss me goodbye
Now you got me feeding kites into the night sky
Covered them with nightlights – like, did you see the beacon?
I swear I let those kites fly around all weekend, no?
Well someone must have cut the lines or something, no?
Or maybe something, oh, you weren’t looking
…Ok Plan B just panic
run up the stairs and shut the door to the attic and don’t come up for air
until you’re torn from her fabric completely…
and just like magic, you’re all in one piece again
But, I’m nothing like I used to be…
elusive and reclusive
Now I’m just both times a hundred… exclusively
Truthfully, I was blind to the deep end
until that piece of us went and died that weekend[Cecil]
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home[Sims]
Then it flashed forward, but I asked for it
Rip out the doubt, I’m way too south
I gulped it up, I laid back
peeling off the layers
the mantra saying “fear can’t stay here – self, see you later”
Fire chakra dissolve to ether
I have to meet her, I know she knows the way
I’ll have to die twice, no novocaine
See the Eye of Horace, I am Osiris
I meet the devil, it ain’t the first time
He kills me quick like I am nothing
Scream St. Peter, I need you now cousin
I see the owls coming, they float me safe
I learn their grace, they help me heal
under stars, peeling off my skin to rid my scars
it’s the first time I am reborn, but I am not me
No identity, and I am finally free< /span>
I am my brother, I am my father
I am the sun, I am the water
I am an ion, I am everything
I am the vapor, a cloud of smoke
I am a cheap laugh, but I get the joke
I am a brief flash, the abstract
I’ve been feeling more creative, lately.
Firstly, I made a rather creative dinner tonight, that came out quite deliciously: a tricolor rotini pasta alfredo with brocolli and cranberry and nutmeg. An unusual combination that I was quite pleased with.
Secondly, I’m trying to draw something every day. I’ve been messing with my pastels. Today, in about 10 minutes, I did the below self-portrait, while listening to this song. So now, every time I see this picture, I will think of this song.
Caveat: Wait, here comes a cowboy
This is a little bit dated, but it’s some serious anti-war stuff. Minneapolitan Sims (of Doomtree Collective) with Crescent Moon, rapping about Iraq.
What I’m listening to right now.
Sims, “Frontline (feat. Crescent Moon).”
Lyrics.
(…thousand miles from home, an American army is fighting for you…He’ll do everything he can to bring peace to our land through the guiding of God’s hand…take action…this message is brought to you as a public service by your department of wealth and helfare…and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea)
[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[Crescent Moon]
Yo, you put up your pride
They burn, gonna burn it down
You speakin’ your mind
They turn, gonna turn it down
They feed you their lies
You word, spread and learn it now
Live by it (Learn to smile)
Big riots (Burn awhile)
Thank you for savin’ us savages
Godless primates that never had a prayer
Bottom of the food chain
Around where the maggots is
Trippin’ antagonists
Layer by layer (By layer)
Now do we divide or do we divide?
You don’t believe in evolution
Or improvin’ with time
Now you standin’ there
Talkin’ ’bout what’s truly divine
I know right from wrong
Wherein you need a sign from the sky
Back, back to where you all came
Give me every brother back
Lynched in your God’s name
Your lords gold plated on a chain
Mine’s hangin’ from a tree
By his neck in the rain
Shit, I got blood
To watch the trail of tears
Watch a trail of tears
Survived and kept comin’
How’m I supposed to feel
About honorin’ my country
When I’m lookin’ at they killer
Every time I see a 20
What the fuck is he talkin’ ’bout?
You’re so patriotic
I ain’t fightin’ in a war
I don’t believe dyin’ for
Hide behind that sticker on your bumper
You ain’t sendin’ folded up
flags back home to their mothers
You ain’t overseas fightin’
Dyin’ with the others
You would rather send your neighbors
Teachers, cousins, nephews, little brother
Hidin’ in your mansion in the suburbs
Like your God wouldn’t judge you
Sleepin’ under silk covers
‘Bout to reach Vietnam numbers
While your president leads you
In prayer for his brothers
We ’bout to reach Vietnam numbers
Why don’t you go ahead
Say me a prayer while you’re under[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[Sims]
I believe in the spirit
And the feathered serpent
But never in the curtain
Words sown by a sermon
In the service of your churches
T-t-t-tighten up the wire
Turnin’ t-t-turnin’ citizens to servants
It’s the c-c-c-constant chaotic
F-f-f-fear of Bin Laden
Either him or it’s Saddam
God we hit bottom
Wait, here comes a cowboy
And he’s a hero he promise
Wavin’ crosses, and pistols
And fistfuls of profits
But, there’s blood in your hands
There’s blood in your pockets
Blood fills your goblets
Patriotic gun
With the scum in the office
With no conscience
I hope you choke
On your own broken soul
Oh-overdose your God’s a remote
I know you’re usin’ up the social control
Abusin’ human rights
Cuz your views confused at birth right
And you want me to march
Left right, left death toll
You’ll eat what you said so souls
No, won’t march for your C.E.O.s
I roll with the murder of crows
Flyin’ over the booms
Over the wreckage
And so we go
Why would I waste a mile
In your crooked footsteps?
We don’t see eye to eye
You see me as that prodigal son
But I see I got nowhere to move and nowhere to run
But I see why you got power from day one
From the slaves that you captured
Sell em’ in to hell and tell ’em
To wait for the rapture
To the day we slaves you manufacture
Master, pastor, same hegemony
Subtle demise makes a legitimate plea
Jesus, please save me from the Jesus freaks
There’s vultures in the skies
And there’s solders overseas
Christian’s on a mission
With missiles positioned and ready to launch
‘Til somebody’s ghost is ready to haunt
God love’s America the most
Cuz it gives him what he wants[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[4x]
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
Caveat: Property is a form of theft
Although I have some sympathy at the ideological level with anarchism, I probably would never be a very good anarchist, because I like rules too much. I'm perfectly happy, most of the time, to live in a semi-fascistic (pseudo-fascistic?) state, like South Korea.
My feelings about Chomsky are conflicted, at best. Most people will say that the guy is a genius in the field of linguistics, but his politics are crazy. I'm perhaps unconventional in that I would be much more likely to appreciate his contributions to politics than his work in linguistics – and I say that as someone with a graduate degree in linguistics. It's not that he hasn't brought genuine insight to linguistics, especially the realm of syntax, but I have always found him to be stunningly hypocritical in his approach to his profession vis-a-vis his approach to politics. His pronouncements and conduct as the "founding father" (those are irony quotes) of modern syntax theory and much of analystical descriptive linguistics are strikingly authoritarian and patriarchal, which is, frankly, unbecoming of a self-proclaimed anarcho-syndicalist.
Having said that, I have strong sympathies to anarcho-syndicalism. I even sometimes will list my political affiliation as "moderate anarcho-syndicalist" which is deliberately ironic – to capture that I have sympathies to it without actually practicing it (i.e. ironic as to say "moderate radical").
Why am I writing about any of this, right now? I ran across a video that was a mash-up of a Chomsky speech from the 1970s and some hip-hop. It made me think about my views of revolutionary politics and of Chomsky in particular.
Do I believe property is a form of theft? Perhaps in the strictly marxian sense, sure: as a philosophical starting point. But it's theft within the framework of a broader social contract that "allows" such theft, and I'm all about contracts and rule-of-law – even in the case of essentially "unjust" laws.
The key to reform must include not just ignoring or protesting unjust laws, which is the fairly typical anarchist-left approach (e.g. Occupy! etc.) but also working hard to create societal consensus about changing unjust laws (a good recent example of that would be the emerging, truly revolutionary, new social consensus with respect to the issue of marriage equality). Most forms of social protest tend to stridently alienate those in opposition (cf. Tea Partiers vs Occupiers) and as such, actually work against building the kind of longer-term societal change that would be of the most benefit. That, in a nutshell, is why I'm not an Occupier despite my ideological proclivities.
Caveat: And Stone And Moonchild
"One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries." – A. A. Milne.
I discovered a poem I had tried to write a few years ago. In a box. In Korea. Forgotten. So I wanted to work on it again. But it's not very good.
What I'm listening to right now.
Cibo Matto, "Stone."
… and …
Cibo Matto, "Moonchild."
Caveat: Your Mission On Earth
“Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you’re alive, it isn’t.” – Richard Bach, in Illusions.
Do you like Mexican aggrotech (electro-industrial) music? Is it odd that I do?
What I’m listening to right now.
[UPDATE 2021-12-19: embedded video above repaired due to link rot.]
Hocico, “Ecos.”
Letra:
Alguna vez te has enamorado, de alguien que no te correspondió,
eso no te impidió dejarlo de amar o ser capas de entenderlo o bien perdonarlo…
Solo era una niña desubicada, era solo un alma perdida….
Era como si pudiera tomar todo el mal y toda la ira del mundo y
con solo una palabra elevarlos al cielo y yo, le ayude, y le prometi que siempre estaria ahi, para protegerla. No es lo que pasa por su mente si no lo que pasa por la mia…
no puedo olvidar mi promesa, es todo lo que me queda
…
Dime, ¿qué es lo crees?
En este mundo de intoxicados
Una voz que te enfurece
hace eco en tus oídos alterdosDeseos muriendo. ¿Crees en ti?
Estas huyendo de algo vil
Violentos cambios sufres hoy
Brutal ausencia. ¿Crees en ti hoy?Y simplemente decides encarar
Lo que aborreces y quieres acabar
Y hasta ahora decides despreciar
Lo que te enferma y no puedes curarDime, ¿que es lo que crees?
En este mundo de olvidados
Un grito que huye de ti
Hacia lugares ya abandonadosNada ni nadie podrá llevarse lo que sabes
Nada ni nadie podrá llevarse lo que puedes ver
Unrelatedly, but perhaps similar in overall tone, here’s another very strange quote I found: “I have a question that’s really more of a suicide note.” – some guy named Dave, in a comment on a blog entry about “Bingo in Utopia” – itself very entertaining, as it tries to discover Marx’s view on bingo. But the quote? Pure genius – utterly worth memorializing.
Caveat: I simply existed
I wandered through the space station for hours. Then for days. I was isolated, but hardly alone. I didn’t feel compelled to interact with the detritus of 10,000 species around me. I simply existed.
A small cranny beside a crowded corridor, with plants growing out of the wall in the dim simulated sunlight, was my sleeping place. There was a food dispenser nearby. A child not much younger than myself would sometimes stop by the food dispenser and stand and watch me sleeping. I would wake up feeling her eyes on me, and she would run off down a curved stairway, always pausing just as her head disappeared below the stairs’ horizon to look back at me, only to return another time. She had a mark on her forearm – it was a symbol of some kind.
I never spoke to anyone. It never occurred to me that I could. Most people ignored me completely. Those who didn’t, I quickly learned to avoid or escape.
Assemblage 23, “Alone Again.”
Caveat: 또 하루 멀어져 간다
Another day. Melancholy.
What I’m listening to right now.
김광석 – 서른즈음에
[UPDATE 2020-03-22: link rot repair]
가사.
또 하루 멀어져 간다
내 품은 담배 연기처럼
작기만한 내 기억 속에
무얼 채워 살고 있는지
점점 더 멀어져 간다
머물러 있는
청춘인 줄 알았는데
비어 가는 내 가슴 속엔
더 아무것도
찾을 수 없네
계절은 다시
돌아 오지만
떠나간
내 사랑은 어디에
내가 떠나
보낸 것도 아닌데
내가 떠나
온 것도 아닌데
조금씩 잊혀져 간다
머물러 있는
사랑인 줄 알았는데
또 하루 멀어져 간다
매일 이별하며
살고 있구나
매일 이별하며
살고 있구나점점 더 멀어져 간다
머물러 있는
청춘인 줄 알았는 데
비어 가는 내 가슴 속엔
더 아무 것도
찾을 수 없네
계절은 다시
돌아 오지만
떠나 간
내 사랑은 어디에
내가 떠나
보낸 것도 아닌데
내가 떠나
온 것도 아닌데
조금씩 잊혀져 간다
머물러 있는
사랑인줄 알았는 데
또 하루 멀어져 간다
매일 이별 하며
살고 있구나
매일 이별 하며
살고 있구나
Caveat: Memorializing the Time Travelers of London
I ran across the image below of what looks like a memorial plaque somewhere in London.
It’s funny.
I also experienced this funny cartoon, below.
These things are unrelated, except as being basically nerd-humor. I guess today, I’m nerdier than usual.
I’m predicting a very lazy Sunday for myself.
What I’m listening to right now.
Cephalgy, “Du bist das Licht.” Why do I listen to German goth-rock? I can’t answer that.
Caveat: 영영
What I’m listening to right now.
나훈아, “영영.” [yeongyeong = forever].
[UPDATE 2020-03-22: link rot repair]
가사.
잊으라 했는데 잊어달라 했는데
그런데도 아직 난 너를 잊지 못하네
어떻게 잊을까 어찌하면 좋을까
세월가도 이직 난 너를 잊지 못하네
아직 나는 너를 사랑하고있나봐
아마 나는 너를 잊을수가 없나봐
영원히 영원히 네가 사는 날까지
아니내가 죽어도 영영 못잊을꺼야잊으라 했는데 잊어 달라 했는데
그런데도 이직난 너를 잊지못하네아니 내가 죽어도 영영 못잊을꺼야
아니 내가 죽어도 영영 못잊을꺼야
Caveat: It’s just a dying fiction
The sky dawned grey and overcast. I feel a sort of impending stress, about some things due for work. But I did a little bit of meditation when I woke up, and I feel better now. And I just heard the most awesome song, that came trundling along on my mp3 shuffle. It’s from 1973! Can you even believe it? It sounds so contemporary.
What I’m listening to right now.
Brian Eno, “Dead Finks Don’t Talk.” The video is a recent attachment to the song, though, I think.
Lyrics.
Oh cheeky, cheeky
Oh naughty sneaky
You’re so perceptive
And I wonder how you knewBut these finks don’t walk too well
A bad sense of direction
And so they stumble ’round in three’s
Such a strange collectionOh you headless chicken
Can those poor teeth take so much kicking?
You’re always so charming
As you peck your way up thereAnd these finks don’t dress too well
No discrimination
To be a zombie all the time
Requires such dedicationOh please sir, will you let it go by
‘Cause I failed both tests with my legs both tied
In my place the stuff is all there
I’ve been ever so sad for a very long timeMy, my they wanted the works, can you this and that?
I never got a letter back
More fool me, bless my soul
More fool me, bless my soul
More fool me, bless my soulOh perfect masters
They thrive on disasters
They all look so harmless
Till they find their way up thereBut dead finks don’t talk too well
They’ve got a shaky sense of diction
It’s not so much a living hell
It’s just a dying fiction
Caveat: Right Turn Clyde
What I'm listening to right now.
Bloodhound Gang, "Right Turn Clyde." This song is definitely NSFW. So don't listen if you think you're easily offended. Please. Despite that, there was a period in my life, about 10 years ago, when Bloodhound Gang, laced as their songs are with obscenities to the point of very poor taste, was major soundtrack in my life. Listening to the song as it came around on my shuffle, I smelled honeysuckle and asphalt – the taste of the Los Angeles air. Odd that it should come around and bring up those memories just so soon after having been there.
The video… I have no clue what it has to do with the song. Seems random.
Caveat: 오빤 강남스타일
Do you got some Gangnam style? Oppa got Gangnam style. Gangnam is the wealthy and trendy high-density neighborhood south-of-the-river in Seoul. The name Gangnam just means “south of the river.” It’s a sort of Beverly Hills and Midtown Manhattan rolled together, with a dash of Hollywood.
What I’m listening to right now.
PSY , 강남스타일 (GANGNAM STYLE ).
가사.
오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style강남스타일
[gangnam”style”]
Gangnam style낮에는 따사로운 인간적인 여자
[najeneun ttasarowoon inganjeokin yeoja]
The woman who is warm humane during day커피 한잔의 여유를 아는 품격 있는 여자
[keopihanjanui yeoyureul ahneun poomgyeokitneun yeoja]
The elegant woman who knows enjoying a break of a cup of coffee밤이 오면 심장이 뜨거워지는 여자
[bamiomyeon simjangi tteugeowoajineun yeoja]
The woman whose heart is getting hot when night comes그런 반전 있는 여자
[geureon banjeon itneun yeoja]
That kind of woman in reverse나는 사나이
[naneun sanai]
I am a manly man낮에는 너만큼 따사로운 그런 사나이
[najeneun neomankeum ttasarowoon geureon sanai]
The manly man who is as warm as you during day커피 식기도 전에 원샷 때리는 사나이
[keopisikkido jeonae “oneshot” ttaerineun sanai]
The manly man who drinks coffee bottoms up before it becomes cool밤이 오면 심장이 터져버리는 사나이
[bami-omyeon simjangi teojeobeorineun sanai]
The manly man whose heart thumps out when night comes그런 사나이
[geureon sanai]
That kind of manly man아름다워 사랑스러워
[ahreumdawoa sarangseureowoa]
So beautiful and lovely그래 너 hey 그래 바로 너 hey
[geuraeneo “hey” geuraebaro neo “hey”]
That’s right, you, hey, that’s right, you, hey아름다워 사랑스러워
[ahreumdawoa sarangseureowoa]
So beautiful and lovely그래 너 hey 그래 바로 너 hey
[geuraeneo “hey” geuraebaro neo “hey”]
That’s right, you, hey, that’s right, you, hey지금부터 갈 데까지 가볼까
[jigeumbooteo galttekkaji gabolkka]
Would you go all the way with me?오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style강남스타일
[gangnam”style”]
Gangnam style오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style강남스타일
[gangnam”style”]
Gangnam style오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오오오오
[oooo]
Ohohohoh정숙해 보이지만 놀 땐 노는 여자
[jeongsukhae boijiman nolttaen noneun yeoja]
The woman who looks virtuous but plays while she plays이때다 싶으면 묶었던 머리 푸는 여자
[ittaeda sipeumyeon mukkeotdeon meori puneun yeoja]
The woman who lets down her hair if she thinks the time is now가렸지만 웬만한 노출보다 야한 여자
[karyeotjiman wenmanan nochulboda yahan yeoja]
The more erotic woman even though she wraps her clothes up than a bare one그런 감각적인 여자
[geureon gamgakjeokin yeoja]
That sensual woman나는 사나이
[naneun sanai]
I am a manly man점잖아 보이지만 놀 땐 노는 사나이
[jeomjana boijiman nolttaen noneun sanai]
The manly man who seems gentle but play while I play때가 되면 완전 미쳐버리는 사나이
[ttaegadwemyeon wanjeon micheobeorineun sanai]
The manly man who freaks when the time is ripe근육보다 사상이 울퉁불퉁한 사나이
[geunyukboda sasangi ultungbultonghan sanai]
The manly man whose idea is more uneven than muscle그런 사나이
[geureon sanai]
That kind of manly man아름다워 사랑스러워
[ahreumdawoa sarangseureowoa]
So beautiful and lovely그래 너 hey 그래 바로 너 hey
[geuraeneo “hey” geuraebaro neo “hey”]
That’s right, you, hey, that’s right, you, hey아름다워 사랑스러워
[ahreumdawoa sarangseureowoa]
So beautiful and lovely그래 너 hey 그래 바로 너 hey
[geuraeneo “hey” geuraebaro neo “hey”]
That’s right, you, hey, that’s right, you, hey지금부터 갈 데까지 가볼까
[jigeumbooteo galttaekkaji gabolkka]
Would you go all the way with me?오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style강남스타일
[gangnam”style”]
Gangnam style오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style강남스타일
[gangnam”style”]
Gangnam style오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오빤 강남스타일
[opaan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오오오오
[oooo]
Ohohohoh뛰는 놈 그 위에 나는 놈
[ttwineun nom geuwie naneun nom]
The jumping guy, the upcoming guyBaby Baby
나는 뭘 좀 아는 놈
[naneun mweoljom ahneun nom]
I am the guy who knows a little something뛰는 놈 그 위에 나는 놈
[ttwineun nom geuwie naneun nom]
The jumping guy, the upcoming guyBaby Baby
나는 뭘 좀 아는 놈
[naneun mweoljom ahneun nom]
I am the guy who knows a little somethingYou know what I’m saying
오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam styleEh- Sexy Lady
오빤 강남스타일
[oppan gangnam”style”]
Daddy-o Gangnam style
I found the lyrics floating around online, very badly translated and romanized. I have taken liberties with the translation – perhaps to the benefit of accuracy, perhaps not. In particular, I decided that 오빠 (oppa) should be “daddy-o” – it has a similar slang connotation, I think, unless I’ve misunderstood what it is. [Update: but see also my entire blog entry following up on this choice of translations]. Certainly it’s not “I’ve got” which is how the source tried to render it. And I made 사나이 into “manly man” – trying to reflect the parodical aspect – the source just had it as “guy.”
I’ve tried to make the romanization (in square brackets) more regular (following the SK standard, mostly). I probably missed some things, though.
The song is meant to be funny. The video certainly is – it’s over-the-top cultural parady, mostly. Don’t think the guy is really taking himself seriously – he’s not.
Caveat: Monsters Exist
During the past two weeks, in my TP반 debate classes, we’ve been debating the topic of monsters, or more specifically, cryptids – e.g. the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, the Chupacabra, etc. The debate proposition was several variations on the sentence: “Monsters exist.” The kids seemed to really enjoy the topic. They like these off-beat things, they seem less intimidating and serious than the standard debate-class fare of public policy issues.
At the end of last week, before our actual speech tests, I took a class period and did a kind of free-writing activity – the kids had to invent their own monsters (including drawing pictures if they wanted to) and then present them to the class, defending why their particular monster was “real.” It was fun. Here is a portrait of all their interesting monsters.
From top left: The Refrigerator Monster, which is harmless but eats all your food (it may be related to a teenager, the clever student explained); Daniel, which no one realizes is a monster, but just don’t make him angry (in fact, Daniel is the creating student’s younger brother, whom I have in a different class); The Hupig (half human, half pig, a mutation as a result of too much pollution); The Bling-Bling Skinny Bigface, which doesn’t seem that attractive to me, but which some students alleged was beautiful (it’s a human mutation that results, if I understood, from excessive vanity, including too much make-up, too much dieting, too much plastic surgery, etc. – interesting); The Lake Park Lake Monster, that lives in the lake at Lake Park, and is invisible and eats small dogs; An un-named but aggressive monster that results from the mutation of students suffering from excessive study – it hunts and brutally kills hagwon teachers (I’m not sure this was a positive message, from this student); A sort of half-fish half-dinosaur, with detailed anatomical drawings, that’s “not really very scary, it just lives in the water and eats fish.”
Speaking of monsters…
What I’m listening to right now.
The Knife, “We Share Our Mother’s Health.” Check out that great, freaky video.
[Daily log: ah, no]