My current book-in-progress-in-which-I’m-actually-making-progress is an introductory book on Chinese philosophy by Fung Yu-Lan. I’ve never really tackled Chinese philosophy before – it’s a major lacuna in my philosophical education, which is more extensive in Western, Native American and Indian (i.e. South Asian) philosophical traditions.
Obviously, an introduction to Chinese philosophy starts, more or less, with Confucius. The core principal is apparently called “jen” (via Wade-Giles, used by Fung). The book doesn’t provide characters, which I’m actually interested in knowing, so I did a little bit of research, to tie things together. I also tried to find out the Korean readings of the characters in question, as that interests me too.
I will try to summarize pages 42-44 in Fung’s book in my own words:
The key principal of all of Confucius’ thought is human-heartedness, or jen (仁, pinyin [ren], Korean 인 glossed as 어질다 [benevolent, virtuous] in a hanja dictionary). Jen is in turn divided into a “positive” and “negative” aspect, each of which is a sort of corollary of Westerndom’s “Golden Rule”: conscientiousness toward others or loyalty, chung (忠, pinyin [zhong], Korean 충 glossed as 충성 [loyalty]), which really means “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and altruism or reciprocity, shu (恕, pinyin [shu]?, Korean 서 glossed as 용서 [pardon, mercy]), which really means “Don’t do unto others what you would not have them do unto you.” Then one of Confucius’ students, Tseng Tzu, summarizes: “Our master’s teaching consists of the principle of chung and shu, and that is all” (Analects, VII).
Category: Banalities & Journaling
Caveat: Angels have gone
As I walked to work, today, it started to snow. It didn't stick at all – the ground was too warm, still, I think – but it was a good effort at snow.
Ever since plunging into my new, returned-to-full-time schedule I've been feeling exhausted. I guess I knew that would happen, and at one level, I welcome it. But it's making it hard to keep up with other things – like, for example, thinking of something creative to put in this here blog thingy.
So I'll leave it at that.
What I'm listening to right now.
David Bowie, "5:15."
Lyrics:
5:15
I'm changing trains
This little town
Let me down
This foreign rain
Brings me down
5:15
Train overdue
Angels have gone
No ticket
I'm jumping tracks
I'm changing towns
We never talk anymore
Forever I will adore you
5:15
All of my life
Angels have gone
I'm changing trains
Angels like them
Thin on the ground
All of my life
All legs and wings
Strange sandy eyes
5:15
Train overdue
Angels have gone
We never talk anymore
Forever I will adore you
Cold station
All of my life
Forever I'm out here forever
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: With Demons
I ran across a different version of this quote, but decided I liked my own version better.
Sometimes I wrestle with my demons. Sometimes, we just hold hands and sit together in silence.
What I'm listening to right now.
Covenant, "Bullet."
[daily log: walking, 4 km]
Caveat: 등잔 밑이 어둡다
Yesterday the two TEPS반 refugee boys (by which I mean a cohort that once had 10 students is reduced to only two) were reduced further to just Jaehwan. Hyeonguk, the other student, had disappeared, and we couldn’t find him. The front-desk-lady didn’t know where he was. He’d simply disappeared.
So Jaehwan and I had class alone, the two of us. I always feel weird trying to conduct a “normal” class with only one student sitting in front of me. I feel like both of our time could be better used in some other way, at that point. But anyway…
We worked our way through the questions, and shared some joking remarks about how when Hyeonguk showed up, he’d have a lot of homework piled up (since the rule I have for this class is that the dictation homework is waived for questions with correct on-the-spot answers in class, and since he wasn’t around, obviously none of the homework was waived).
I speculated that Hyeonguk may have been abducted by aliens. I had to explain this by drawing a picture (at right), since Jaehwan was unfamiliar with the pop-culture-referencing idiom “abducted by aliens.”
Then about 20 minutes in, Curt reported in to say that Hyeonguk had been located – in the next-door classroom, where he’d decided to “audit” without telling anyone. I’m fine with that – these things happen.
Jaehwan and I shared a laugh about it, since we’d really had no idea where he’d gone. He knows I study Korean aphorisms, sometimes, so he took the opportunity to tell me one relevant to the situation.
등잔 밑이 어둡다
deung·jan mit·i eo·dup·da
lamp base-SUBJ be-dark
It’s dark at the base of the lamp.
The English expression might be, “right under one’s nose.” I wrote it on the board, to be able to remember it.
Caveat: Expansion. Contraction. Silence.
There was something expansive in my illness. It forced me to open out into the world and confront things head on. Guilt and self-recrimination evaporated – there was no time for it. I took on the world, drew it into myself, embraced it.
This last month has felt like a sort of contraction – a narrowing, a closing-in upon myself. And there has been a resumption of guilt and self-recrimination.
It all seems to run like a stop-motion movie of a flower growing, opening, then wilting and dying and falling away. Cancer flower.
Seasons for the wrong reasons: spring becomes fall, through a summer of desperation.
Yet from a standpoint of my simple physicality, doesn’t it seem like the effect should be opposite? Shouldn’t I have plunged into a temporary field of decrescence only to rise out and emerge whole again afterward?
The psychology of this thing has me puzzled.
I have indeed been in a very strange mental place, this afternoon. I’ve been listening to classical music continuously. I guess what’s called “contemporary classical”: John Tavener, Arvo Pärt. Bobmusic, I have called it in the past. When is the last time I did that? Many, many years.
What I’m listening to right now.
Arvo Pärt, “Silentium.”
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: Realistic Expectations
In my Saturday special speaking class, my middle schoolers were answering the question, "What will you be doing in five years?"
One girl described how she was going to be in university, majoring in math and science, and would have a handsome boyfriend. Another girl said she would be starting a business and making a lot of money. The typical broad ambitions of early teenagers.
But then Jenny said, "I will be in university. Probably, I will drink a lot of alcohol."
Keeping it real.
Caveat: ideology:anxiety::malice:stupidity
There is a famous aphorism in English that goes:
Never attribute to malice that which is more easily explained by stupidity.
The phrase applies a sort of Occam's Razor to the problem of bad behavior in people.
Recently, having run across several accounts of "racism" in Korea, I wondered if there might be a sort of corollary to this aphorism that applies specifically to those sorts of bad behavior. Of course, as foreigners in Korea, we often suffer strange or disturbing slights and mistreatments. One frequent thing that I have experienced myself is to be ignored by taxi drivers.
My thought, though, is that rather than assume that's racism at work, why not assume it's not that different from the reason store clerks say nothing to you, or why my students sit and stare at me when I say hello: it's fear or anxiety over fraught language interaction.
Obviously, there is still generalization and stereotyping going on – after all, it might be one of those foreigners who speaks Korean well that the taxi driver drove past.
But social language anxiety is very powerful. Consider my own bizarre telephone anxiety as a case-in-point. I am not that indrawn of a person, yet I am terrified to answer my phone in this country. Unless it's a number of someone I've already added to my contact list (and therefore their name shows when they call) I simply don't answer my phone, for fear of having to interact in Korean. This is true, despite the fact that I have in the past successfully interacted on the phone in Korean, when it was absolutely necessary.
Might it not be the case that many of these taxi drivers and store clerks who slight foreigners are simply engaging in similar language-anxiety driven behavior? I think so. Koreans are typically very self-conscious about their poor English skills, because their society has spent several generations, now, pounding into their heads that they should have such skills.
Well, anyway, I guess I could develop this further and more precisely, but mostly, I wanted to invent a new corollary to the aphorism at the start of this blog-post. It goes:
Never attribute to ideology (e.g. "racism") that which is more easily explained by social anxiety.
It really can be easily represented by one of those SAT-style vocabulary analogies:
ideology:anxiety::malice:stupidity
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: Dreaming Drawing Monsters
I slept longer than I have in a long time – I woke up about two hours later than my usual time. That's a sign that I was tired yesterday.
I was having strange dreams about drawing monsters. Cartoon monsters. Not much plot. Just drawing cartoon monsters.
Some dream. I tried to draw one of the cute monsters I'd been dreamdrawing immediately when I woke up (see right). Success: marginal.
Caveat: Package Received
When I arrived at work today, I saw that I had received a care package from my brother. It is, by far the most eccentric (and therefore best) care package I've ever received.
It included finger puppets (from his girlfriend Hollye), which will be perfect for my lower grades roleplay classes. It included various random packages of unusual flavors of tea and coffee. It included what appears to be a late 1800's edition of Longfellow's poetry (it's undated, like many books from the pre-modern era). It contained some hand-burned CDs of music (some of which were damaged, making me think maybe my brother found them on the floor of the garage or somewhere like that). It contained a robot magnet. And it contained a panic button – literally: a button that looked detached from some device, with the word "PANIC" inscribed on it. Oh, and it had some iodine supplements – which I'd asked for, having been unable to find them in Korea, and theorizing that iodine might be part of what might help my post-cancer resistance to further cancer go well.
My brother knows me well.
Work was intense today. I had 6 classes, all in a row. And every single one of them was "new" – not the kids, but the curriculum spots were all inherited from other teachers, as we got new schedules this week and I have finally become truly "full time" again. With every class being new, I was hardly well-prepared. But I knew the kids, anyway, and considering everything, it went pretty smoothly. It's the most intense, full teaching day I've had since before my hospitalization.
Walking home, my mp3 shuffle seemed fixated on playing only sad and depressing songs. But I didn't fast forward through them, I just listened. Not really feeling that sad or depressed at the moment. Just tired.
What I'm listening to right now.
Gossamer, "Memoir."
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: Those Uzbek Girls
I was talking with the TEPS반 boys – there's only two right now – about what different countries are famous for. I don't remember the details of the conversation, but the meaning of this is e.g. Australia is famous for kangaroos or Egypt is famous for pyramids. These are advanced, ninth-grade boys. We were just killing time, it wasn't a lesson.
"What else can countries be famous for?" I asked something like this, speculating.
"Girls," one boy said.
Of course! These are ninth-grade boys, right? "What country is famous for girls?" I asked, genuinely curious what the answer would be.
"Uzbekistan," he said, as if it was a well-known fact.
"Really? Uzbekistan is famous for girls?"
"Oh, yes. They are perfect."
"How do you know this?" I pondered.
"It's just known."
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: Teach a Language
For many years, we've been hearing reports about the idea that bilingualism (and tri- and multi-lingualism) can give cognitive benefits and stave off mental decline and even prevent or postpone Alzheimers.
One weakness in the data has been that this research has mostly been done in countries where most bilinguals happen, coincidentally, to belong to immigrant populations (e.g. the US, Australia, Western Europe) - so there's always been a lingering doubt as to whether the brain benefits were being delivered as a result of bilingualism or were possibly linked to some other aspect of the immigrant experience / environment.
Now a major study out of India has narrowed the apparent benefits more specifically to multilingualism – see this post at Language Log for details.
Give a life-long gift to a child today – teach her or him a language.
What I'm listening to right now.
MC 900 Ft Jesus, "If I Only Had a Brain."
Lyrics
Suppose I accidentally got my shit together
Would I get a medal?
Or a pat on the back and a little feather
I could stick in my cap or pin it to my shirt
Go out in the yard and poke it in the dirt
Or leave it in the woods where it couldn't be found
If it fell over, would it make a sound?
And if it did, would it be the sound that you like?
Or should I do it over until I get it right?
You say everything I know is wrong
So do me a favor, and play along for a minute
As the rusty gears turn
Don't be alarmed if you smell something burning upstairs
It's a little BB rolling around in a box car
See us together
Maybe it wouldn't be hard to explain
If I only had a brain
[chorus]
Somewhere on a higher mental plain
(Somewhere On A Higher mental plain)
I might learn to come in from the rain
(I might learn to come in from the rain)
If I had a clue would I still be here with you?
(If I had a clue would I still be here with you?)
Gee whiz, if I only had a brain
(Gee Whiz, If I only had a brain)
Who's that?
Oh, my little friend cupid
Wearing a shirt that says I'm with stupid
Always nearby wherever I go
He's looking out for me, don't you know
Mr. excitement, never in a rut
Johnny on the spot with an arrow in the butt
Ouch! I guess your love is true
Now, if I could only get a clue
[chorus]
Had a brain
Had a brain
Had a brain
Had a brain
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: Branco e Preto
Stuff.
Life keeps happening. I noticed I'm still losing hair. I didn't lose much from the top of my head during radiation (unlike my beard which disappeared almost entirely – but that just makes shaving easier), but I've been aware that the rate of loss overall seems to have accelerated. I keep finding grey and white hair: Oh… that's mine, isn't it? Well, used to be…. goodbye.
What I'm listening to right now.
Elis Regina, "Retrato em Branco e Preto."
letra:
Já conheço os passos dessa estrada
Sei que não vai dar em nada
Seus segredos sei de cor
Já conheço as pedras do caminho,
E sei também que ali sozinho,
Eu vou ficar tanto pior
E o que é que eu posso contra o encanto,
Desse amor que eu nego tanto
Evito tanto e que, no entanto,
Volta sempre a enfeitiçar
Com seus mesmos tristes, velhos fatos,
Que num álbum de retratos
Eu teimo em colecionar
Lá vou eu de novo como um tolo,
Procurar o desconsolo,
Que cansei de conhecer
Novos dias tristes, noites claras,
Versos, cartas, minha cara
Ainda volto a lhe escrever
Pra lhe dizer que isso é pecado,
Eu trago o peito tão marcado
De lembranças do passado e você sabe a razão
Vou colecionar mais um soneto,
Outro retrato em branco e preto
A maltratar meu coração
Caveat: On Revision
Here is an interesting quote on the process of revision.
Over and over again, we are told about the importance of polishing, of revising, of tearing up, and rewriting. I got the bewildered notion that, far from being expected to type it right the first time, as Heinlein had advised me, I was expected to type it all wrong and get it right only by the thirty-second time, if at all.
I went home immersed in gloom and the very next time I wrote a story, I tried to tear it up. I couldn’t make myself do it. So I went over to see all the terrible things I had done, in order to revise them. To my chagrin, everything sounded great to me. (My own writing always sounds great to me.) Eventually, after wasting hours and hours–to say nothing of suffering spiritual agony—I gave it up. My stories would have to be written the way they always were—and still are.
What is it I am saying, then? That it is wrong to revise? No, of course not—anymore than it is wrong not to revise.
– Isaac Asimov
I was forced to revise my Sunday walk, as once I was outside I came to the stark realization that it had become cold. It was 1°C. I guess it's time to break out the winter clothes.
What I'm listening to right now.
John Newman, "Love Me Again." The video is rather depressing (spoiler), if you watch all the way through.
[daily log: walking, 4 km]
Caveat: Chicken? Egg? Solved!
In my TOEFL2반 class, I decided to switch things up a bit.
I teach them "Speaking" – which in TOEFL / iBT prep, means getting them to give 45-second or one-minute speeches in response to sample test questions, mostly. It's all about practice, practice, practice. So a normal class involves me getting each of them to answer 2 or 3 questions. We have a routine: I ask the question and randomly choose a student; I hand them my smartphone, which has a countdown timer on the screen, set for e.g. 45 seconds; then I hold my video camera on them – not because I'm going to do anything at all with the result, but merely because it creates an amazing level of "pressure" and focus. And they talk.
Last night, I decided let them ask me questions, instead, following essentially the same routine. I handed the camera to one of the students, sat down at a desk facing them and put my timer down in front of me. They would ask a question, I would have 15 seconds to cogitate on a response, and then I would talk for 45 seconds, with the camera on. Most of the questions they asked were the same typical "made up" iBT Independent Speaking questions (types 1 and 2) that we see in our textbooks. But at the end they threw me a few strange ones, just to see what I'd do. I ran with it, of course.
The final question of the evening was: "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?"
Here is my answer.
I'm not sure I was able to explain it adequately in my alloted 45 seconds, but I think I held my own. When asked to give my response a score on the 4 point iBT speaking scale, my students gave me a 2.9. This seems about right, in my opinion – even native speakers can only do so well on test like the TOEFL, and I always tell my students that a perfect score on the iBT Speaking section is as much about luck on the questions as it is about ability, because even native speakers can easily blow a question or two, ending up tongue-tied or devoid of clear ideas for a response, given the short time-frame.
Caveat: PTSD?
My acquaintance Kelli (a former coworker from circa 1988) suggested, based on her own experience, that there is possibly a component of the cancer treatment process that leads to PTSD. I've been mulling it over, and it makes sense. That explains the slightly affect-less, semi-shell-shocked feeling I've been having so much of, lately.
I hesitate to use the term, though – both because it seems broadly over-used as part of our culture, and also because I'm not sure how I feel about it as a "diagnosis" at all. I'm not much of one for the DSM, when you get down to it. It's a lot of labels.
Partly, though, my feeling is it's just being back in the grind of work. I had been intending to plunge back into a kind of self-curative workaholism after the worst was over, and so… that's where I'm going. It's taxing, though – physically because I'm not in the best shape, and emotionally, because, well… work.
What I'm listening to right now.
Peter Murphy, "Cuts You Up."
[daily log: walking, 6 km]
Caveat: Grandmother’s Kimchi
We were doing iBT (TOEFL) Speaking test practice questions in the T1 반. I asked a question something like "Choose what you think is the most dangerous social idea in history and discuss."
The students have 15 seconds to think what to say and then must begin talking for 45 seconds. That's TOEFL.
That clown, Tae-hui, gave an answer, without waiting for me to say "start." He made me laugh:
"My grandmother's kimchi," he deadpanned.
What I'm listening to right now.
Capital Cities, "Safe and Sound."
Caveat: Teach Children with Love and Wisdom
Last night, I had a pretty long conversation with Curt. He was distraught over difficult business decisions: complaints from parents about teachers (fortunately not about me, at least none reported)… therefore more changes in the employee rolls forthcoming… lost students….
"I don't want to be 원장 [wonjang = hagwon boss] anymore!" he sighed.
He paid me an unexpected complement, then, as I complained, in turn, about my current struggle with reconciling my slow and still painful post-cancer recovery with my ambition, such as it is.
"In the time if have known you, you have shown a strong ability to be reborn," he said. He stood up and demonstratively tapped the [broken link! FIXME] Nietzsche quote that is still taped up beside the staffroom door. I'm often surprised and pleased by the philosophical turns our conversations take.
"I reinvent myself," I clarified, perhaps wanting to move away from the religious connotations of being "reborn" that he no doubt wasn't really familiar with in English.
"Yes. You were very different when I first met you." That was in late, 2007, and I worked for him the first time in the spring of 2008.
I didn't feel different…. I don't feel different.
But yes… I reinvent myself, it's true. Constantly.
"So now, I have to reinvent myself again," I finally said, with my own sigh.
"Yes. You can do it."
I will strive to become a better teacher, in my new post-cancer version of the jared.
Here are some ideas from my sixth-grade student Andrea in her recent month-end speech, on how to be a better teacher.
She's the kind of student that I am teaching for – I prefer students like her who have such high standards and expectations. I have titled her speech, "Teach Children with Love and Wisdom" – because that's what she says.
Caveat: Four Months Cancer-Free
This phrase, "cancer-free," as discussed [broken link! FIXME] last month, is just code for "no major tumors currently identified." We all have cancer, all the time.
I guess my health is much improved.
But now that the elation of living through the summer has passed, I'm more and more suffering from a kind of mild depression: life must go on, and at times it's just as frustrating and tedious and unfulfilling as before.
I had hoped I'd be eating normally by now. I'm not. When do I get to eat Indian food again? Kimchi? Cake? Burritos? Crackers?
I had hoped I'd be gung ho about work and taking on the challenges it presents, by now. I'm not. When do the major problems plaguing my workplace finally reach some kind resolution?
I had hoped I'd be plunging into some life-affirming project (i.e. my writing), to make better use of my remaining time on earth. I'm not. When will I finally have a reliable every-day writing habit?
This is the hard slog.
One. Step. At a time.
Kurt Vonnegut, in 2006, wrote back to a group of high school students. In part, he said:
Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting,
sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or
badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow.
What I'm listening to right now.
M83, "Wait."
Caveat: Everything that kills me makes me feel alive
I'm really not feeling that great, so I took it easy today. I think it's more a kind of emotional frustration at how slowly my recovery feels like it's going.
So I sat around trying to read today, and then took a walk around the lake in a slight drizzle after dark fell.
What I'm listening to right now.
OneRepublic, "Counting Stars."
Lyrics:
(Chorus)
Lately I been, I been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars
Yeah, we'll be counting stars(Verse)
I see this life
Like a swinging vine
Swing my heart across the line
In my face is flashing signs
Seek it out and ye shall findOld, but I'm not that old
Young, but I'm not that bold
And I don't think the world is sold
I'm just doing what we're toldI feel something so right
By doing the wrong thing
And I feel something so wrong
By doing the right thing
I could lie, could lie, could lie
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive(Chorus)
Lately I been, I been losing sleep (Hey!)
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars
Lately I been, I been losing sleep (Hey!)
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be, we'll be counting stars(Verse)
I feel the love
And I feel it burn
Down this river every turn
Hope is a four letter word
Make that money
Watch it burnOld, but I'm not that old
Young, but I'm not that bold
And I don't think the world is sold
I'm just doing what we're toldAnd I feel something so wrong
By doing the right thing
I could lie, could lie, could lie
Everything that downs me makes me wanna fly(Chorus)
Lately I been, I been losing sleep (Hey!)
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars
Lately I been, I been losing sleep (Hey!)
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be, we'll be counting stars(Bridge)
Take that money
Watch it burn
Sink in the river
The lessons I learnedEverything that kills me makes me feel alive
(Chorus)
Lately I been, I been losing sleep (Hey!)
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars
Lately I been, I been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be, we'll be counting stars(Outro)
Take that money
Watch it burn
Sink in the river
The lessons I learned
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
Caveat: Political Fantasy, A-Dreamed
Despite my slight addiction to political blogs and world-events newsfeeds, my dreams rarely seem overtly (geo)political in nature. Last night, however, I had a dream that was a bit like watching a major world event unfold on the internet – or really, two world events happening in parallel. Further, they displayed an interesting symbolism vis-a-vis my status as a U.S. expat at this stage in my life.
In the dream, two major political events were unfolding at the same time.
On the one hand, in Korea, a rather sudden and almost entirely peaceful reunification was taking place, somewhat in the style of the German reunification of the early 1990's. The air was full of optimism, as Seoul's TV networks and reality shows were allowed to wander freely in Pyeongyang, while many, many North Korean economic migrants were welcomed with essentially open arms into the South, and Park Geun-hye and Kim Jong-eun made joint appearances at conferences, discussing a "uniquely Korean" federal solution to reunification.
It was all the stuff of political fantasy, of course – I find such a scenario incredibly unlikely, though I wouldn't put the statistical chances at exactly zero.
The contrast, however, was that just as this was unfolding in Korea, in the U.S. a civil war was beginning, as Tea Partiers and other right-wing mal-contents, unhappy with yet another loss at the never-ending game of legislative obstructionism, decided that it was time to "Live Free of Die," as the revolutionary New Hampshire flag would remind us. They began a series of targetted killings and terrorist acts, including assassinating several Democratic Senators, while the state of South Carolina once again announced it was seceding, in response to some federal intervention in the matter of voting rights and healthcare. The U.S. Army was mobilized (again) to do something about the secession, as Texas and Tennessee followed suit.
Once again, this is the stuff of political fantasy, and not necessarily likely.
What I found interesting psychologically was how this plays out as a kind of dream-representation of my expat status, or of the reasons behind it. I left the U.S., in part, in 2007, because of a sort of feeling that the U.S. polity had reached such a senescence as to make it "not worth trying" to make a life there "work" anymore. Obama's election in 2008 seemed to offer a sort of chance at redemption, but his subsequent political ineptitude (not to mention outright failure to keep promises) has only confirmed my initial judgment: these are the last days of the Roman Republic, and we should remember that the glories of Caesar were largely only Caesar's, and that the victors write history, in civil wars too.
Make of it what you will.
Happy Sunday.
Caveat: Just A Rainy Saturday
Chilly, rainy autumn Saturdays like today are the reason I fight to stay alive.
Pictures from the walk to work and the walk home.
What I'm listening to right now.
Lou Reed, "Perfect Day." Lou Reed passed away on Sunday.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: There’s No Hagwon Yearbook
Mostly today at work I was hosting Halloween parties for groups of elementary students. I guess it ends up being the most important "holiday" event at our hagwon – which makes sense: Halloween is essentially the U.S.'s "children's day."
But also today, I found out that several of my longest-term students in my most advanced middle-school class are leaving our hagwon. I was quite sad to hear this – I've been out of touch with the Tuesday-Thursday cohorts because of my post-cancer part-time status, so I haven't been following events as closely as I normally try to do.
Walking home from work, I was quite moody and sad, thinking about how I've known two of these departing students for the entire time I've been teaching at Karma – since May of 2011. It's hard to see them moving on, but, of course, that's what students do.
Unlike public school teaching, there's not really any such thing as a "yearbook" for hagwon students. I began to daydream and speculate as to how a hagwon yearbook might be done – it can't be based on fixed enrollment periods, since students are constantly coming and going. It would have to be monthly. With some appropriate technology (e.g. social networking of some kind) I think it wouldn't be hard to make a hagwon "yearbook," however. It would be more like a "monthbook." I should discuss this with my boss.
[daily log: walking, 3 km]
Caveat: 76 kg
I stepped on my little Tesco bathroom scale this morning and it said 76 kg. That's 168 lbs. I've never had a reason to distrust this scale – it was more-or-less in sync with my official weigh-ins during my radiation treatment.
Here's the thing: the last time I weighed less than 170 lbs was 1990. I passed it going the other direction while in basic training for the US Army – "bulking up" they called it, as I got in shape. Before that, I had always been a skinny person. And since the US Army, I have always been a fat person. Permanent metabolic changes were either wrought by my army experience or else corresponded with it.
I peaked in 1998 at around 260 lbs (120 kg), with another peak at about the same in 2005.
The key to my current weight is simple: the "amazing cancer diet" works! Just make sure that eating is more painful than exercise, and you're set.
Caveat: Halloweeneen
The '-een' in Halloween means "eve." So Halloween Eve should be called Halloweeneen.
We had Halloween parties at the hagwon for the Monday-Wednesday-Friday cohorts of elementary kids. It was more tiring than teaching regular classes. I'm exhausted.
At right is a picture of me with two girls who wore costumes. I wore a costume too, although it was a bit of a stylistic mish-mash: the original (a few years ago) was Zorro. But I don't have my plastic sword, so I was using a giant inflatable plastic hammer. And I don't have my mask on.
It appears I'm a psycho sneaking up on them. That wasn't really the intent of the picture, but it works for Halloweeneen.
My middle-schoolers, in reaction to my costume, said I resembled a younger, more dangerous Dumbledore (of Harry Potter). I wasn't sure I should feel flattered by that.
[daily log: walking, 3 km]
Caveat: 버스커
Sometimes I listen to Korean pop radio – streaming on my computer so it’s easy to look up songs and stuff.
I hear this song by a group called 버스커 버스커 [busker busker] a lot and decided to look it up today. I like the cartoony image (is it an album cover?) I found on the lyrics site.
Anyway, the song is really a bit yodelly for my taste, but it’s not bad.
What I’m listening to right now.
버스커 버스커 [busker busker], “처음엔 사랑이란게.”
가사
거리에 오 겹쳐진 그녀 모습 속에는
오 난 그어떤 그리움도 찾아볼 순 없군요
거리에 일렁이는 그녀 모습 속에는
오 난 그 어떤 외로움도 찾아볼 순 없군요
처음엔 사랑이란 게 참 쉽게 영원할 거라
그렇게 믿었었는데 그렇게 믿었었는데
나에게 사랑이란 게 또 다시 올 수 있다면
그때는 가깝진 않게 그다지 멀지도 않게
난 예
벤치에 앉아있는 그녀 모습 속에는
오 난 그어떤 그리움도 찾아볼 순 없군요
벤치에 들려오는 그녀 웃음 속에는
오 난 그어떤 외로움도 찾아볼 순 없군요
처음엔 사랑이란 게 참 쉽게 영원할 거라
그렇게 믿었었는데 그렇게 믿었었는데
나에게 사랑이란 게 또 다시 올 수 있다면
그때는 가깝진 않게 그다지 멀지도 않게
머린 아픈데 오 너는 없고
그때 또 차오르는 니 생각에
어쩔 수 없는 나의 맘 그때의 밤
나에겐 사랑이란 게 아 사랑이란
처음엔 사랑이란 게 참 쉽게 영원할 거라
그렇게 믿었었는데 그렇게 믿었었는데
나에게 사랑이란 게
라랄라라 워 허허어 허어 워 허어허어 예
라랄라라 워 허허어 허어 워 허어허어 예
[daily log: walking, 8.5 km; running 1.5 km]
Caveat: Bread and Flowers
I had an easy day today – only one class. Tomorrow is my last "day off" from work, as I go back to full time officially on Friday, November 1st but unofficially on Wednesday, to assist with the Halloween Party.
I guess it's good I have a few more easy days – I had a pretty upset stomach yesterday and especially this morning. Bleah. I suspect (but don't know for sure) that it's related to the withdrawal of the painkiller. In any event, despite the upset stomach, I'm not feeling much (intolerable) pain in my mouth. I have only taken a few ibuprofin since last week, mostly on Saturday night when I had a headache. Furthermore, I ate a piece of bread this evening. That might sound insignificant, but if you know how I've been eating, you'd realize it's big progress.
OK then, that's enough of my health-status update. More later.
What I'm listening to right now.
My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, "Lucifer's Flowers."
[daily log: walking, 10 km]
Caveat: Entre le royaume des vivants et des morts
The kids from Montreal have an awesome new song that I listened to about 10 times today. David Bowie heard them working on it, and liked it so much he joined them signing – you can hear his distinctive voice.
Plus, I drew this picture of a skeleton dreaming (ink and watercolor).
What I'm listening to right now.
Arcade Fire, "Reflektor."
Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
Trapped in a prison, in a prism of light
Alone in the darkness, darkness of white
We fell in love, alone on a stage
In the reflective age[Pre-Chorus – Régine Chassagne]
Entre la nuit, la nuit et l’aurore
Entre le royaume des vivants et des morts
If this is heaven
I don't know what it’s for
If I can’t find you there
I don't care[Chorus]
I thought I found a way to enter
It’s just a Reflektor (It's just a Reflektor)
I thought I found the connector
It’s just a Reflektor (It's just a Reflektor)[Verse 2]
Now, the signals we send, are deflected again
We're so connected, but are we even friends?
We fell in love when I was nineteen
And now we're staring at a screen[Pre-Chorus – Variation – Régine Chassagne]
Entre la nuit, la nuit et l'aurore
Entre le royaume des vivants et des morts
If this is heaven
I need something more
Just a place to be alone
Cause you're my home[Chorus]
[Bridge 1]
It’s just a reflection of a reflection
Of a reflection of a reflection
But I see you on the other side?
We all got things to hide
It’s just a reflection of a reflection
Of a reflection of a reflection
But I see you on the other side
We all got things to hide
Alright, let's go back[Verse 3]
Our song it skips, on little silver discs
Our love is plastic, we'll break it to bits
I want to break free, but will they break me
Down, down, down?
Don't mess around[Chorus]
[Bridge 2- David Bowie and Win Butler]
Thought you were praying to the resurrector
Turns out it was just a Reflektor (It’s just a Reflektor)
Thought you were praying to the resurrector
Turns out it was just a Reflektor (It’s just a Reflektor)
Thought you were praying to the resurrector
Turns out it was just a Reflektor (It’s just a Reflektor)[Outro]
It’s a Reflektor
It’s just a Reflektor
Just a Reflektor
But I see you on the other side
It’s just a Reflektor
But I see you on the other side
We all got things to hide
It’s just a Reflektor
But I see you on the other side
[daily log, walking, 5.5 km]
Caveat: A Chair
I dreamed about a chair.
This is no joke. The whole dream was about a chair. I can't even explain it. It was just there, like on this huge flat plain, standing there like a monument, but not a big chair or fancy. A kitchen chair.
There were tourists who would come by to see it. There were pictures of it on the news and on the internet.
It was the sort of dream where I would wake up and think, "OK, that was weird," and then go back to sleep and end up right back in it.
I wanted to somehow capture it. But what can I do? What's to describe? A chair. What's to draw? A chair. Here is my dream.
What I'm listening to right now.
Muse, "Thoughts of a Dying Atheist."
It's Sunday. I take the dream to mean I need to stop and rest. I intend to try to avoid my computer and phone today. See you later.
Caveat: 데헷
During my Saturday Special Speaking-only class my student handed me this card. I’m not sure what it means, but I tried to figure it out.
It says, “데헷~ 귀요미 윤디쨩”.
데헷 [de-het] is something like “haha” or “teehee”…
귀요미 [gwiyomi] means “cute”…
the “윤디” [yundi] I’m clueless about what this means…
“쨩” [jjyang] means “best” as in “number one person.”
I’m pretty sure she meant that she, herself, is cute and best at something. I wish I was better at figuring out this type of “found Korean.”
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: adios opioids
Since Thursday, I've stopped taking the prescription painkillers. I'm not sure I was really ready to stop, but during my visit with Dr Jo he seemed surprised I was still taking them, and, since I've always preferred to be "ahead of the curve" on these things, I thought to myself, "maybe there's a bit of a habit aspect to it." So I stopped.
I do still have a lot of discomfort, but it's mostly tolerable. This morning my mood was surprisingly positive and good – enough that I've decided the opioids were probably depressing me a little bit, or affecting me in some way like that. I know that was the case with the really heavy stuff, which I'd stopped some time back with the feeling they were too much of a downer. Anyway, now I'm prescription-free.
Caveat: Teacher, I think that is very serious
I have some cute plush bendy-snakes. I bought them for 3 bucks each at a stand outside the Korean Folk Village some weeks ago. I have been keeping them at my desk at work. One is lavender and the other is neon green.
My younger students stopped by my desk earlier today and arranged them in an intertwined way over the cubicle divider. "They are couple," one girl explained. All Koreans know the Konglishism "couple" – even 8 year olds.
"I see," I said, thinking nothing of it.
Later, I was sitting at my desk, and a 6th grader (about 12) named Sangjin came by. He studied the snakes with a sort mock shock or disgust on his face.
"Teacher, what is … happening?" he asked, gesturing at the snakes.
"My younger students did that," I explained. "They said they are a couple."
Sangjin nodded sagely. "Teacher," he said, with a pregnant pause. "I think that is very serious."
He got the intonation exactly right, too, dropping his already-changing voice a near-octave on the word "very."
I doubled over, laughing.
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: Abducted
I have to work today but it feels like I have a little vacation. That's probably good.
I plod my way through my breakfast, and add an extra layer against the cool morning air, rather than shut my window.
My coffee is not just lukewarm but almost cold, because I have let it sit so long on my desk. I don't mind – my mouth is still temperature-sensitive, so I definitely prefer that to hot.
I need to do something creative, but I'm feeling exhausted. I guess I'll… surf some art sites on the internet.
I found this picture. It was brilliant and funny. I hope the author doesn't mind my reposting it here.
Caveat: All Clear
My coworker May took a lot of photos last weekend when we went to Ganghwa Island (강화도). She forwarded some of them to me today so I'll post a few here.
I like this one of me looking meditative going down the stairs. In so many pictures of me, I look like I'm grimmacing in pain. Heh. Of course.
I like this one of Helen with Jacob. Helen told me she had a very hard time understanding Jacob, and couldn't figure out if it was his Australian accent or the fact he's 15. I suspect a combination of both.
Today after leaving Jacob and my mom at the airport, I raced back to Ilsan to make my 1 pm appointment at the hospital. I got my CT scan and then had a short consult with Dr Jo.
"All clear."
That's good.
I'm so tired. I got home around 4 and crashed into napland. I woke up just now and will post this and go back to sleep.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]