Today is our big day, the annual Karma English Academy talent show. As is typical, I feel utterly unprepared. But thus it goes – that's life in the Karmic Korean Kingdom of Chaotic Quasi-Confucian Contingency.
Meanwhile, what I'm listening to right now.
Elton John, "Rocket Man." The video is brand new, but has been declared "official." I found the video, by Iranian refugee Majid Adin, quite stunningly beautiful and sad, and it manages to take a melancholic, classic song almost half a century old, now, like John's "Rocket Man," and imbue it with intense new meaning vis-a-vis the contemporary, never-ending global refugee crisis.
Lyrics.
She packed my bags last night pre-flight Zero hour nine AM And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then I miss the earth so much I miss my wife It's lonely out in space On such a timeless flight
And I think it's gonna be a long long time 'Till touch down brings me round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh no no no I'm a rocket man Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it's gonna be a long long time 'Till touch down brings me round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh no no no I'm a rocket man Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids In fact it's cold as hell And there's no one there to raise them if you did And all this science I don't understand It's just my job five days a week A rocket man, a rocket man
And I think it's gonna be a long long time 'Till touch down brings me round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh no no no I'm a rocket man Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it's gonna be a long long time 'Till touch down brings me round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh no no no I'm a rocket man Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time And I think it's gonna be a long long time
Paranmaum, "Linda Linda." This is a cover of a song originally by the Japanese band Blue Hearts. The group singing, Paranmaum, is a kind of "in character" band created specifically for a Japanese movie, Linda Linda Linda (note that the title of the song and movie are, uh, different). Nevertheless, the band members aren't lip-syncing – they're really performing and their music had some success outside of the movie context. Also worth noting, the lead singer of the band is Korean. The role was an early one played by the prodigious and talented actress 배두나 [Bae Doona]. I guess "in character," Bae here is playing a Korean exchange student at a Japanese high school, where she forms a band. Hence the band's name is Korean, too (Paranmaum [파란마음] = "Blue Heart").
가사 (Lyrics – Japanese with transcription and translation in Korean).
ドブネズミみたいに美しくなりたい 도부네즈미미타이니 우츠시쿠나리타이 생쥐처럼 멋져지고 싶어-
寫眞には寫らない美しさがあるから 샤신니와우츠라나이 우츠쿠시사가아루카라 사진에는 없는 멋이 있으니까-
リンダリンダ リンダリンダリンダ 린다린다- 린다린다린다-
リンダリンダ リンダリンダリンダ 린다린다- 린다린다린다-
もしも僕がいつか君と出會い話し合うなら 모시모보쿠가이츠카 키미토데아이하나시아우나라 만약 내가 언젠가 너와 만나서 이야기하게 되면-
そんな時はどうか愛の意味を知って下さい 손나도키와 도우카아이노이미오 싯테쿠다사이 그럴 때는 부디 사랑의 의미를 알아줬으면 해-
I learned that the essential character of a nation is determined not by the upper classes, but by the common people, and that the common people of all nations are truly brothers in the great family of mankind. … And even as I grew to feel more Negro in spirit, or African as a I put it then, I also came to feel a sense of oneness with the white working people whom I came to know and love.
This belief in the oneness of humankind, about which I have often spoken in concerts and elsewhere, has existed within me side by side with my deep attachment to the cause of my own race. Some people have seen a contradiction in this duality. … I do not think however, that my sentiments are contradictory. … I learned that there truly is a kinship among us all, a basis for mutual respect and brotherly love. - Paul Robeson
What I'm listening to right now.
Paul Robeson, "Joe Hill." Song by Phil Ochs.
Lyrics.
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, Alive as you and me Says I But Joe, you're ten years dead I never died said he, I never died said he. The Copper Bosses killed you Joe, They shot you Joe says I
Takes more than guns to kill a man Says Joe I didn't die Says Joe I didn't die And standing there as big as life And smiling with his eyes
Says Joe What they can never kill Went on to organize, Went on to organize From San Diego up to Maine, In every mine and mill, Where working-men defend there rights, It's there you find Joe Hill, It's there you find Joe Hill I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, Alive as you and me.
Says I But Joe, you're ten years dead I never died said he, I never died said he
I think the Joan Baez rendition of this song is the one I heard in childhood.
Many people don't realize that the name of my birth state has a rather unusual etymology. California was named by Spanish explorers after a fictional place, which is named in a novel they were familiar with, Las sergas de Esplandián, by Garci Rodríguez de Montalvo. Montalvo, in turn, made up the name, probably under the influence of La Chanson de Roland, from a few centuries earlier, where we can read,
Morz est mis nies, ki tant me fist cunquere Encuntre mei revelerunt li Seisne, E Hungre e Bugre e tante gent averse, Romain, Puillain et tuit icil de Palerne E cil d'Affrike e cil de Califerne;
I suppose these medieval and renaissance authors were trying to evoke the "enemy" of Christiandom, i.e. the Caliphate. Thus California has the same "conceptual etymology" as ISIS, via a very different path.
As is typical, I sit and watch Korean TV, and it’s mostly whatever is on, as I channelsurf my basic cable.
One show that is in saturation mode at the moment is 보이스, a show that shares some characteristics with the popular American “police procedural” genre. I don’t always understand what exactly is going on, but there are a lot of psychos and serial killers. I think far more than there really are, in Korea. At least… I hope so. I don’t actually have a particular liking for the show. My point here is only that it part of my daily milieu, at the moment.
These shows always have sound-track tie-ins, and the sound track videos get played during breaks in the programming schedule, so you get repeated doses of the series’ theme songs at times other than just when the show is playing. Hence…
What I’m listening to right now.
김윤아, 목소리 (보이스 OST).
가사.
시든 꽃도 숨 쉰다
깊은 새벽은 푸르다
노랫소린 더 작아질 뿐
사라지지 않는다
So if you know the right way
멈추지마 또 걸어가
고요해진 마음에
들려오는 멜로디
많은 사람 스친다
매일 눈빛이 다르다
계절의 끝 그 길 위에
고단함을 벗는다
So if you know the right way
돌아서서 또 바라봐
Without any words spoken
전해지는 목소리
멜로디
기억 속 짧은 시간을
부르는 목소리
조용히
나직이
I’m not really the type of person to get excited about new movies. I almost exclusively see movies only when they have been around for quite a while and show up on my television, or because I’ve managed to get a copy on my computer. I haven’t been to a movie theater in many years.
Nevertheless, I can muster some excitement for the upcoming Lego movie. The first Lego movie was remarkably well-written given its genre, with many layers of meaning and actually pretty complex, as a work of fiction. I had been quite impressed with it. So I expect the same of this new movie. So far, I’ve seen some positive reviews.
As I often do on Sundays, I let my television run. It’s just Korean basic cable, as far as I know – I don’t pay anything for it, so it must be included in my building services fee, which includes heat and water and electricity. My television is an ancient, CRT TV, that was abandoned by the previous tenant in my previous apartment. But it’s OK.
I surf around the channels, kind of randomly. Yesterday I caught a rather strange movie, entitled 초능력자[choneungryeokja]. It always intrigues me when Korean-made movies feature foreign actors in major roles, speaking Korean as if it were par for the course. It makes me feel optimistic about Korean culture making its way confidently in our cosmopolitan world. This movie itself was quite strange, though. As usual, when mentioning movies, I won’t try to summarize it – there are better summaries available elsewhere. But anyway I recommend it. [daily log: walking, 7km]
Lately, I have been doing something strange. I have been watching 100-year-old movies on youtube.
They intrigue me, although to be honest I don't always follow their plots very well. I think my narrative imagination isn't up to the challenge of the silent film aesthetic. I guess I stick with them mainly because they are historically interesting.
I recently read a review of a book (The Kingdom of Speech, by Tom Wolfe) I was already uninterested in, based on other mentions of it on various linguistics-oriented blogs. The book has received a huge amount of attention in the mainstream media as one of those books on "linguistics for non-linguists," and apparently contains an attack on Chomsky's approach to linguistic universals, and challenges the importance of his contributions. It also, incidentally, attacks Darwin. So there's that.
I'm no huge fan of Chomsky, but it's not his theoretical work that has annoyed me so much over the years, but rather his "armchair anarchism," and the seeming hypocritical disconnect between his anti-authoritarian politics and his somewhat dogmatic (i.e. authoritarianish) and unquestionably totalizing approach to his field of specialization (syntax). How does a self-avowed anarchist not see the irony in dogmatically propagating a theory with the a Foucauldian title like "government and binding"?
Nevertheless, and setting aside his academic dogmatism, Chomsky's insights to the field of syntax were revolutionary, and even if they are increasingly being called into question by other linguists, he deserves his reputation. His work has been foundational.
Therefore the review is right on target. It rightly defends Chomsky's intellectual legacy, which regardless of the weaknesses of his forays outside of syntax, should be secure.
Since the unexpected and unplanned departure of one our teachers at Karma two weeks ago, I have been teaching some of the so-called "CC" classes that I haven't done for quite a while. These classes are essentially a kind of "pop music" listening class – have the kids listen to pop songs and make an effort to compel them to sing (not necessarily a very rewarding exercise with middle schoolers, especially since I have a lot of sympathy for their position).
So I have been trying to come up with songs where I can actually teach something about the song's meaning, and not just focus on the mechanics of capturing the lyrics.
I did NWA's old rap song, "Express Yourself" (which I've blogged before but which for some weird reason I can't seem to find in google – google is great but it has mysterious holes sometimes, when it comes to googling my own blog).
And then I did this song by Avicii, a weird kind of Celtic-influenced Technopop, I guess – I'm not great at genre classifications. The song is not quite as shallow as it seems at first, although it's fairly conventional. The kids like the video, anyway. So we went through the lyrics in detail, line by line.
What I'm listening to right now.
Avicii, "The Nights."
Lyrics.
Hey, once upon a younger year When all our shadows disappeared The animals inside came out to play Hey, went face to face with all our fears Learned our lessons through the tears Made memories we knew would never fade
One day my father—he told me, "Son, don't let it slip away." He took me in his arms, I heard him say,
"When you get older Your wild heart will live for younger days Think of me if ever you're afraid."
He said, "One day you'll leave this world behind So live a life you will remember." My father told me when I was just a child These are the nights that never die My father told me
[Instrumental]
When thunder clouds start pouring down Light a fire they can't put out Carve your name into those shining stars He said, "Go venture far beyond these shores. Don't forsake this life of yours. I'll guide you home no matter where you are."
One day my father—he told me, "Son, don't let it slip away." When I was just a kid I heard him say,
"When you get older Your wild heart will live for younger days Think of me if ever you're afraid."
He said, "One day you'll leave this world behind So live a life you will remember." My father told me when I was just a child These are the nights that never die My father told me
These are the nights that never die My father told me Hey, hey
I'm not completely shocked at the idea of Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. I would be first to defend his "literariness," and have done so consistently for decades. He is a great poet.
Still, there is something a bit parochial about the choice, in my opinion. In my observation, Dylan has been more popular in Europe and Latin America than in North America for many decades now, and as such he seems to be a regional choice betraying a certain European parochialism.
Regardless, as one blog commenter I read pointed out: who else deserves the Nobel in Literature? Let's actually look at who's out there, and then ask, how does Dylan compare to these others, in terms of cultural impact?
What I'm listening to right now.
Dave Alvin, covering Bob Dylan's "Highway 61 Revisited." Given that Dylan is a better poet than singer, I thought finding a cover with a clearer voice might do better justice to the literary aspect. This one seems appropriate.
Lyrics.
Oh, God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son" Abe said, "Man, you must be puttin' me on" God said, "No" Abe say, "What?" God say, "You can do what you want, Abe, but The next time you see me comin', you better run" Well, Abe said, "Where d'you want this killin' done?" God said, "Out on Highway 61"
Well, Georgia Sam, he had a bloody nose Welfare department, they wouldn't give him no clothes He asked poor Howard, "Where can I go?" Howard said, "There's only one place I know" Sam said, "Tell me quick, man, I got to run" Oh, Howard just pointed with his gun And said, "That way, down Highway 61"
Well, Mack the Finger said to Louie the King "I got forty red-white-and-blue shoestrings And a thousand telephones that don't ring Do you know where I can get rid of these things?" And Louie the King said, "Let me think for a minute, son" Then he said, "Yes, I think it can be easily done Just take everything down to Highway 61"
Now, the fifth daughter on the twelfth night Told the first father that things weren't right "My complexion," she says, "is much too white" He said, "Come here and step into the light" He said, "Hmm, you're right, let me tell the second mother this has been done" But the second mother was with the seventh son And they were both out on Highway 61
Now, the roving gambler he was very bored Trying to create a next world war He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor He said, "I never engaged in this kind of thing before But yes, I think it can be very easily done We'll just put some bleachers out in the sun And have it on Highway 61"
Here is another poem from “A letter not sent” by Jeong Ho-seung (정호승), from which I blogged another poem once before. I like this one, from page 244.
휴대폰의 죽음
휴대폰의 죽음을 목격한 적이 있다
영등포구청역에서 지하철을 기다리고 있을 때였다
전동차가 역 구내로 막 들어오는 순간
휴대폰 하나가 갑자기 선로 아래로 뛰어내렸다
전동차를 기다리며 바로 내 앞에서
젊은 여자와 통화하던 바로 그 휴대폰이었다
승객들은 비명을 질렀다
전동차는 급정거했으나 그대로 휴대폰 위로 달려나갔다
한동안 전동차의 문은 열리지 않았다
역무원들이 황급히 달려오고
휴대폰의 시체는 들것에 실려나갔다
한없이 비루해지면 누구의 얼굴이 보이는 것일까
지금 용서하고 지금 사랑하지 못한 것일까
선로에 핏자국이 남아 있었으나
전동차는 다시 승객들을 태우고 비틀비틀 떠나갔다
다시 전원의 붉은 불이 켜지기를 기다리며
휴대폰은 자살한 이들과 함께
천국의 저녁식탁 위에 놓여 있다
– 정호승 (대한민국의 시인, 1950년)
Death of a Cell Phone
I’d witnessed before the death of a cell phone.
It was while I was waiting for a train at Yeongdeungpo-gu Office Station.
Just as the train was entering the station
a cell phone suddenly threw itself down onto the tracks.
It was the cell phone that had been talking to a young woman,
right in front of me as I waited for the train.
The other passengers screamed.
The train came to a sudden stop, but ran on over the cell phone.
For some time the doors did not open.
Station attendants came running hastily
and the corpse of the cell phone was carried away on a stretcher.
Whose face do we see when we become infinitely abject?
Is it the face of those we could not forgive, could not love?
Bloodstains remained on the tracks
but the train took on the passengers and went staggering off.
Waiting for the red light of the “Power On” to turn on once again,
the cell phone lies on heaven’s supper table
together with those who have killed themselves.
– Jeong Ho-seung (Korean poet, b 1950), translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé and Susan Hwang
One thing that happens every time my friend Peter leaves Korea is that I get a pile of books. I am his Asian book storage facility, because he knows I appreciate them.
One book he left with me is a book of poems entitled “A letter not sent” by Jeong Ho-seung (정호승). The book is bilingual, which I like, with translation by Brother Anthony and Susan Hwang. Brother Anthony is a Catholic monk based in Seoul and prolific translator of Korean poetry – I’ve written about him before on this blog. Peter actually seems to know the man through their shared membership in the Royal Asiatic Society.
I particularly liked this poem (note that I copied the poem’s text from the book, so any strange typing mistakes, especially in the Korean where my typing skills are imprecise, are my own and not in the original).
밥 먹는 법
밥상 앞에
무릎을 꿇지 말 것
눈물로 만든 밥모다
모래로 만든 밥을 먼저 먹을 것
무엇보다도
전시된 밥은 먹지 말 것
먹더라도 혼자 먹을 것
아니면 차라리 굶을 것
굶어서 가벼워질 것
때때로
바람 부는 날이면
풀잎을 햇살에 비벼 먹을 것
그래도 배가 고프면
입을 없앨 것
– 정호승 (한국 시인 1950년-)
How to Eat
No kneeling
in front of the meal table;
the rice made of sand should be eaten
before the rice made of tears.
Above all else
rice on display should not be eaten;
if you must eat it, you should eat it alone;
otherwise you should fast;
by fasting you will grow lighter.
From time to time
on windy days,
you should mix grass with sunlight and eat that;
and should you still feel hungry
you should do away with your mouth.
– Jeong Ho-seung (Korean poet, b1950)
One comment on the title. The translation of the title, “How to Eat,” isn’t completely literal. Literally, it is “Rules for eating rice.” But “eat” and “eat rice” are essentially synonymous in Korean (in a way that can sometimes lead to confusion for Westerners).
I very much prefer the literal title, and I think the poem is playing with the semantic overlap between “eat” and “eat rice” which means the title should include “rice.”
I have written a nonnet as a kind of “response” to this poem. I will post it tonight as my daily nonnet. [daily log: walking, 6.5km]
A few weeks ago I finished that book my friend Peter loaned me – Hendrick Hamel's Journal. Essentially, I read it in one sitting – it's not a long book. Peter guessed correctly that the parts I found most interesting were the appendices and footnotes. In general, however, it reads pretty well – it is a remarkable gateway to a truly alien world: a 17th century Dutchman stranded in an even more alien 17th century Korea. Yet I was impressed his remarkable equanimity and his refusal to categorically condemn his captors (indeed they made him a slave, which was the typical fate of foreigners landing in Korea in the period).
I recommend this book even to those without a specific interest in Korea. In some ways, the narrative most resembles those "stuck on an alien planet" tropes common to certain types of science fiction. That, in itself, makes it quite fascinating.
I have often joked that in my long-term residence in Korea, I have "emigrated" to one of those alien planets that so fascinated me when I was younger. This book captures the same idea. Korea of the present day is hardly alien at all, compared to the Korea of that era.
I caught this movie on the TV, called 나의 절친 악당들. It was funny and a bit surreal. I recommend it.
The song at the end, kind of an outro theme song, had a classic music-video style sequence, with the actors lip-syncing the lyrics. I couldn’t find the clip online, but the whole movie is posted here (for now, since these things tend not to last long) so you could scroll to the end to catch the video sequence, at 1:43:00. I kind of got hooked on the song. I started trying to translate the lyrics because I couldn’t find a translation online, but that effort lost steam. I thought the title, anyway, might be something like “What’s your game?” or “What are you playing at?” although the subtitles in the movie posting have “Why surprised?” But I think the the verb 놀다 has an element of the meaning “to play” that “Why surprised?” fails to convey. Maybe something like “Why are you pretending to be surprised?”
So that song is…
what I’m listening to right now.
장기하와얼굴들, “뭘 그렇게 놀래.”
가사.
뭘 그렇게 놀래
내가 한다면 하는 사람인 거 몰라
그렇게 동그란 눈으로
나를 쳐다보지 마
뭘 그렇게 놀래
내가 빈말 안 하는 사람인 거 몰라
뭐라도 본 듯한
표정 짓고 서 있지를 마
뭘 그렇게 놀래
내가 한다면 하는 사람인 거 몰라
그렇게 얼빠진 눈으로
나를 쳐다보지 마
잘 들어 미안하지만
니가 보고 있는 것들은 꿈이 아냐
그리고 잘 봐 낯설겠지만
니가 보고 있는 사람이 진짜 나야
나도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
이렇게나 멋지게
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
너도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐겠지만
더 이상 예전에 니가 알던
내가 아니야
뭘 그렇게 놀래
내가 굉장히 냉정한 사람인 거 몰라
되돌릴 수 있다는
그런 꿈꾸지도 마
잘 들어 미안하지만
니가 보고 있는 것들은
꿈이 아냐 그리고
잘 봐 못 믿겠지만
니가 보고 있는 사람이 진짜 나야
나도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
이렇게나 멋지게
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
너도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐겠지만
더 이상 예전에 니가 알던
내가 아니야
나도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
이렇게나 멋지게
해낼 줄은 몰랐었어
너도 내가 진짜로
해낼 줄은 몰랐겠지만
더 이상 예전에 니가 알던
내가 아니야
Since I’m so sick with this flu, I have been lying around in an even more profoundly layabout manner than usual, when not at work. Yesterday, I slept over 11 hours. When I turned on the television, I watched a Korean movie about a time-travelling medieval Taoist wizard and his adventures in modern Seoul, with some difficult-to-understand detours to the period of the Japanese occupation of Korea (1930’s). It was called 전우치 (romanized as Jeon Woo-chi: The Taoist Wizard.)
It seemed like a pretty entertaining movie, to the extent I understood it.
Then I went to work. I’m in a bit of a fog, lately.
Off to work again today. [daily log: walking, 6.5km]
As I've mentioned before, just sitting and watching Korean television on some random channel can often lead to seeing unexpected or unusual things, not necessarily of high artistic merit.
Yesterday I got home from work and it was very hot. Summer has arrived. I turned on my A/C for the first sustained run this season, took a short nap, and then vegged in front of the TV.
I watched a very bizarre Russian comedy called Dzhungli ("The Jungle", 정글), subtitled in Korean. Obviously my level of comprehension was rather low, but between my rusty two years of college Russian and my low-vocabulary but high-frequency Korean, I picked up more than I might have expected. Mostly pronouns.
Fortunately the plot was so facile that it sustained my interest. It was full of the kinds of social and cultural stereotypes that became unpopular in the west about half a century ago. Some married couple with relationship problems gets stranded on a remote tropical island. At first they're sabotaging each other's efforts to survive on the island, like a never-ending lover's quarrel devolved into a lord-of-the-flies scenario, but then these highly caricatured "natives" show up, who, despite wearing blackface, rather humorously all speak German (bear in mind that the Slavic term for "German" [nemets] means, roughly, "can't talk" – so this may be a kind of complex joke). The natives attempt to kill the couple, but they fight them and eventually escape the island and return to Russia and marital bliss.
Actually it reminded a lot of some lost episode of Gilligan's Island, with better special effects and marginally less coherent dialogue, and where Ginger and Gilligan finally become an item and have their own private adventure in the jungle somewhere.
I don't recommend this movie. Unless you're really bored watching Korean broadcast TV on a Saturday afternoon.
There is a series of animations called "Bendito Machine" that I recently discovered. These are quite interesting. I'll embed the first in the series, below.
I guess Prince (Prince Rogers Nelson) died this morning. In fact, I was not a huge fan of his music, but he is of my generation, and of my adopted city (Minneapolis), and his music and cultural impact were both ubiquitous in my college years. Certainly I think he was quite talented, an original artist and thinker, and entirely deserving of his fame and fans. I can conjure several of his songs into my mind without prompts, including "1999" and "Purple Rain," and and I saw the movie of the same title as the latter, "Purple Rain," many times. Probably the thing Prince did that I found most interesting, as a linguist, was when he changed his name to an unpronounciable symbol (at right), and for a number of years was therefore known as "The Artist formerly known as Prince." This appealed to my interest in absurdist and Borgesian linguistic follies.
I would have preferred to put a Prince song, below, but… well, he was also quite assiduous in his control of his creative output, including his long-standing dispute with his music label, and his famous quote that working for his label was like slavery. Because of that, quality youtube videos of his music are quite hard to find. I would have posted a less well-known song, perhaps something with political content, like his 1981 "Ronnie, Talk To Russia." I suggest you go find it somewhere, if you're interested.
Meanwhile, since that's not available, here's something utterly unrelated and of a different genre and epoch.
What I'm listening to right now.
Nothing But Thieves, "Excuse Me."
Lyrics.
His space crowds out your space, your space Your space crowds out hers Coffee breath and headphone hiss But no one says a word
Eyes upon the paper headline Refuge in your phone Bumping shoulders Cough and sniff But no one says hello
Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here
My heart beats like yours does, hers does, Her heart keeps good time And everyday I mind the gap between you and me Here comes someone else to share the air we breathe
Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here Woahhh Reach out for anyone, and they will tell you get out of here Woahhh I'm asking everyone, you've gotta help me get out of here Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here
Meanwhile Under the gun Hey everyone Our work here is done We out You gonna come? Hey everyone Our work here is done
Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here Woahhh Reach out for anyone and they will tell you get out of here Woahhh I'm asking everyone, you've gotta help me get out of here Woahhh Excuse me while I run, I really gotta get out of here
At the University of Minnesota, in 1988, I took a class on the Medieval Welsh language. I don't know why. I think I had this idea of trying to connect with my alleged Welsh heritage (the family name "Way" is Welsh in origin, cognate with "Vaughn" and "Waugh," and bears no relation to the English word "way" meaning means or road).
It was one of the most difficult classes I ever took. Yet I remember it quite fondly.
Most of the other students had some background that would be appropriate – either knowledge of Modern Welsh, or work with some other cognate language, like Irish or Scots Gaelic. All I had was some linguistics and Latin. The first day, the professor handed us this text.
Pwyll Pendeuic Dyuet a oed yn arglwyd ar seith cantref Dyuet. A threigylgweith yd oed yn Arberth, prif lys idaw, a dyuot yn y uryt ac yn y uedwl uynet y hela. Sef kyueir o'y gyuoeth a uynnei y hela, Glynn Cuch. Ac ef a gychwynnwys y nos honno o Arberth, ac a doeth hyt ym Penn Llwyn Diarwya, ac yno y bu y nos honno. A thrannoeth yn ieuengtit y dyd kyuodi a oruc, a dyuot y Lynn Cuch i ellwng e gwn dan y coet. A chanu y gorn a dechreu dygyuor yr hela, a cherdet yn ol y cwn, ac ymgolli a'y gydymdeithon. Ac ual y byd yn ymwarandaw a llef yr erchwys, ef a glywei llef erchwys arall, ac nit oedynt unllef, a hynny yn dyuot yn erbyn y erchwys ef. Ac ef a welei lannerch yn y coet o uaes guastat; ac ual yd oed y erchwys ef yn ymgael ac ystlys y llannerch, ef a welei carw o ulaen yr erchwys arall. A pharth a pherued y llannerch, llyma yr erchwys a oed yn y ol yn ymordiwes ac ef, ac yn y uwrw y'r llawr.
We also had a "reference grammar". I had already acquired a (modern) Welsh dictionary.
We had to translate the text, which was the introductory passage from Pwyll Pendeuic Dyuet – a bit of Welsh mythology from the Mabinogion (Red Book of Hergest). I actually managed it. It was very hard. Eventually, we translated the entire story, along with some Welsh poetry and other medieval snippets.
This intensive experience has led to the story of Pwyll and Rhiannon (a Welsh horse godess) being one of the most vivid stories resident in my imagination.
Here is the part where Rhiannon first appears, in the story.
Yna y dywot Pwyll. "A uorwyn," heb ef, " yr mwyn y gwr mwyhaf a gery, arho ui." "Arhoaf yn llawen," heb hi, "ac oed llessach y'r march, pei ass archut yr meityn." Sewyll, ac arhos a oruc y uorwyn, a gwaret y rann a dylyei uot am y hwyneb o wisc y phenn, ac attal y golwc arnaw, a dechreu ymdidan ac ef. "Arglwydes," heb ef, " pan doy di, a pha gerdet yssyd arnat ti?" "Kerdet wrth uy negesseu," heb hi, "a da yw gennyf dy welet ti." "Crassaw wrthyt y gennyf i," heb ef. Ac yna medylyaw a wnaeth, bot yn diuwyn ganthaw pryt a welsei o uorwyn eiroet, a gwreic, y wrth y ffryt hi. "Arglwydes," heb ef, "a dywedy di ymi dim o'th negesseu?" "Dywedaf, y rof a Duw," heb hi. "Pennaf neges uu ymi, keissaw dy welet ti." "Llyna," heb y Pwyll, " y neges oreu gennyf i dy dyuot ti idi. Ac a dywedy di ymi pwy wyt?" "Dywedaf, Arglwyd," heb hi. "Riannon, uerch Heueyd Hen, wyf i, a'm rodi y wr o'm hanwod yd ydys. Ac ny mynneis innheu un gwr, a hynny o'th garyat ti. Ac nys mynnaf etwa, onyt ti a'm gwrthyt. Ac e wybot dy attep di am hynny e deuthum i." "Rof i a Duw," heb ynteu Pwyll, "llyna uy attep i iti, pei caffwn dewis ar holl wraged a morynnyon y byt, y mae ti a dewisswn." "Ie," heb hitheu, "os hynny a uynny, kyn uy rodi y wr arall, gwna oed a mi." "Goreu yw gennyf i," heb y Pwyll, "bo kyntaf; ac yn y lle y mynnych ti, gwna yr oet." "Gwnaf, Arglwyd," heb hi, "blwydyn y heno, yn llys Heueyd, mi a baraf bot gwled darparedic yn barawt erbyn dy dyuot." "Yn llawen," heb ynteu, "a mi a uydaf yn yr oet hwnnw." "Arglwyd," heb hi, "tric yn iach, a choffa gywiraw dy edewit, ac e ymdeith yd af i.
Translations of the Mabinogion aboundonline - I'll not attempt to replicate my undergraduate feat of translation. At right, is a painting of Rhiannon, by Alan Lee, in his illustration of the Mabinogion.
What I'm listening to right now.
Fleetwood Mac, "Rhiannon."
Lyrics.
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her? Takes through the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman Taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you Heaven? Will you ever win?
She is like a cat in the dark And then she is the darkness She rules her life like a fine skylark And when the sky is starless
All your life you've never seen a woman Taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you Heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win? [| From: https://www.elyrics.net/read/f/fleetwo… |]
Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon
She rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her? She was alive like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman Taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you Heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?
Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon
Taken by, taken by the sky Taken by, taken by the sky Taken by, taken by the sky
Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind
I was surfing around on the TV last night and watched this movie. It’s in Korean, and on broadcast television, of course, there are no subtitles. So when I undertake to watch a Korean movie on TV it’s more than just an idle undertaking. It’s work to understand. This movie is the sort that is easiest for me to make sense of, I think – family comedies. The reason why probably has to do with the prevalance of simple, day-to-day vocabulary, often stripped of the complex verb periphrastics that populate higher discourse. Perhaps this movie, with the child protagonists, was accessible because I find kids easier to understand, too. This may be because in fact, most of my Korean practice is with kids – i.e. my students.
It was a cute movie. It turns out to be based on an English-language kids lit book. The real mystery is why, of the three wikipedia articles about the movie that are available, besides Korean and English (both logical), the third is in Armenian. What’s that all about? Notes for Korean (finding meaning)
뭄추다 = to stop (doing something)
하던 일 = “that thing [I/he/she/someone] was doing” … I’m not sure about this, because it’s a grammatical construction using -던 which is called a “retrospective modifier” (whatever that is) and a derivation of the verb+object periphrastic 일 하다 which seems to mean “to do some nonspecific thing” or “to work on something”
It’s not very often that I will watch a movie all the way through when I don’t understand it. But I caught this movie on TV yesterday that held my attention visually all the way through, despite the fact that it was a Chinese movie with Korean subtitles.
It is called 畫皮 2, known in English, apparently, as Painted Skin: The Resurrection. I found it online by searching for the Korean title which was on the TV, “화피2,” and then searching the Chinese title in the English wikipedia.
Perhaps someday I will try to find it and watch it in a language where I understand it – although it’s also possible that in understanding it better, I would like it less. I found it compelling the way that a surreal but incoherent dream is compelling. It certainly had a lot of violence and weird magic. [daily log: walking, 6km]
There is actually a rather surprisingly sophisticated write-up of this song, from a musicological perspective, on a blog I have sometimes looked at. It gave me a new appreciation for this song that otherwise would just be one of the pop bits I tolerate because my students enjoy them.
Lyrics.
I threw a wish in the well, Don't ask me, I'll never tell I looked to you as it fell, And now you're in my way
I'd trade my soul for a wish, Pennies and dimes for a kiss I wasn't looking for this, But now you're in my way
Your stare was holdin', Ripped jeans, skin was showin' Hot night, wind was blowin' Where do you think you're going, baby?
Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
It's hard to look right At you baby, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
And all the other boys, Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
You took your time with the call, I took no time with the fall You gave me nothing at all, But still, you're in my way
I beg, and borrow and steal At first sight and it's real I didn't know I would feel it, But it's in my way
Your stare was holdin', Ripped jeans, skin was showin' Hot night, wind was blowin' Where you think you're going, baby?
Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
It's hard to look right At you baby, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
And all the other boys, Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
Before you came into my life I missed you so bad I missed you so bad I missed you so, so bad
Before you came into my life I missed you so bad And you should know that I missed you so, so bad (bad, bad)
It's hard to look right At you baby, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
And all the other boys, Try to chase me, But here's my number, So call me, maybe!
Before you came into my life I missed you so bad I missed you so bad I missed you so, so bad
Before you came into my life I missed you so bad And you should know that
Really I selected this more for the video than for the music. It's not something I would necessarily seek out, as music goes, but the animated video by Simon Landerin is quite entertaining.
Chew the pill that tastes like hell, but gives you strength
Embrace the drug that makes you mad, cause then it turns you into something else
Feel the need for love grows stronger!
Swap your mind for a mirror-search, and shake until the break of day
One day you’ll realize that you were wrong
And you’ll regret that all this happened
Did it (all) happen?
Some day you’ll realize that you were wrong
(You’ll be) Left with paranoia, (as your only friend)
Your mind is full of enemies, the room is full of energies
That want to take control
They’re all around you, and you’re all alone
Your mind is full of enemies, the room is full of energies
Haunting your soul
They’re all around you, and you’re on your own
One day you’ll realize that you were wrong
You’ll regret that all this happened
Some day you’ll realize that you were wrong
To be left with Paranoia
Lately I have been watching a lot of TV, trying hard to watch Korean-language content, guided by the idea that it could help me improve my Korean. I don't always understand much, but I try. Sometimes, however, one can stumble across very strange things when channel surfing Korean television.
The other day, I arrived on a Bollywood movie being broadcast, right as some engineering students started a dance routine in the dormitory showers.
This struck me as funny.
At the end of the song, I was hooked – watch til the last seconds of the song above, you'll see why – the movie has a serious subtext. The movie was hard for me to follow, given the subtitles were in Korean. Only about 30% of the dialogue is in English.
Apparently, the movie, called "3 Idiots," is quite famous.
We like to think of the “drug epidemic” is something that emerged in 1970s and 1980s. We like to think there aren’t deep and complex cultural roots to the relationship between drugs and violence and disadvantaged social classes, and that those roots antedate the “War on Drugs” by many decades.
I wonder to what extent the “War on Drugs” wasn’t a kind of “redirection” of repressive energies vis-a-vis the civil rights movement. The former ramped up alongside the latter, and served as a kind of coded means to continue social control while paying lip service to the ideals of equality.
What I’m listening to right now.
Luke Jordan, “Cocaine Blues.” 1927. Really – this recording is older than my dad’s car.
Lyrics.
Now, go on, gal, don’t you take me for no fool
I’m not gonna quit you, pretty mama, whilst the weather’s cool
Around your back door, says, honey, I’m gonna creep
As long’s you make me those two and a half a week
Now I’ve got a girl, she works in the white folks yard
She brings me meal, I can swear, she brings me lard
She brings me meal, she brings me lard
She brings me everything, I swear, that she can steal
Now, Barnum Bailey’s Circus came to town
They had the dancers looking good and brown
They didn’t know it was against the law
For the monk’ to stop at a fine drug store
Just around the corner just a minute too late
Another one standin’ at the big back gate
I’m simply wild about my good cocaine
I call my Cora, hey, hey
She come on sniffin’ with her nose all sore
The doctor swore ain’t gonna sell no more
Sayin’, run, doctor, ring the bell
The women in the alley
Am simply wild about my good cocaine
Now, the furniture man came to my house
It was last Sunday morn
He asked me was my wife at home
And I told she had long gone
He backed his wagon up to my door
Took everything I had
He carried it back to the furniture store
And I swear I did feel sad
What in the world has anyone got
Dealin’ with the furniture man?
If you got no dough
To stand up for show
He certainly will back you back
He will take everything from an ugly plant
From a skillet to a frying pan
If it ever was a devil born without any horns
It must have been the furniture man
I call my Cora, hey, hey
She come on sniffin’ with her nose all sore
Doctor swore ain’t gonna sell her more
Sayin’ coke for horses, not women or men
The doctor says it’ll kill you but he didn’t say when
I’m simply wild about my good cocaine
Now, the babies in the cradle in New Orleans
They kept a-whiffin’ ’til they got so mean
They kept a-whiffin’ had to fix it so
The judge wouldn’t ‘low to sell no more
Sayin’, run, doctor, ring the bell
The women in the alley
Am simply wild about my good cocaine
I call my Cora, hey, hey
She come on sniffin’ with her nose all sore
The doctor swore, “I ain’t gonna sell her more.”
Sayin’ run, doctor, ring the bell
The women in the alley
Am simply wild about my good cocaine
Another song.
Luke Jordan, “Pick Poor Robin Clean.” 1927.
Lyrics.
REFRAIN: You better pick poor robin clean, pick poor robin clean
I picked his head, I picked his feet, I picked his body but it wasn’t fit to eat
You better pick poor robin clean, poor robin clean
So I’ll be satisfied, havin’ your family
Get off my money and don’t get funny
‘Cause I’m a nigger, don’t cut no figure
Gamblin’ for Sadie, she is my lady
I’m a hustling coon, that’s just what I am
REFRAIN: You better pick poor robin clean, poor robin clean
I picked his head, I picked his feet, would-a picked his body but it wasn’t fit to eat
You better pick poor robin clean, pick poor robin clean
Says, I’ll be satisfied, havin’ your family
Oh, didn’t that jaybird laugh when he picked poor robin clean?
Picked poor robin clean, poor robin clean
Oh, didn’t that jaybird laugh when he picked poor robin clean?
Says I’ll be satisfied, havin’ the family
REFRAIN: You better pick poor robin clean, poor robin clean
I picked his head, I picked his feet, would-a picked his body but it wasn’t fit to eat
You better pick poor robin clean, pick poor robin clean
Says, I’ll be satisfied, havin’ your family
Now if you have that gal o’ mine, I’m gonna have your ma
Your sister, too, your auntie, three
If your great-grandmammy do the shivaree I’m gonna have her, four
I be satisfied, havin’ the family
REFRAIN: You better pick poor robin clean, pick poor robin clean
I picked his head, I picked his feet, I would-a picked his body but it wasn’t fit to eat
You better pick poor robin clean, poor robin clean
Says, I’ll be satisfied, havin’ your family
On Sunday I did something I don’t do very often (maybe basically almost never): I watched a Korean movie all the way through, without subtitles.
I find it frustrating to watch without subtitles, because my Korean just isn’t that good. But when something comes on the TV, there are no subtitles. More often than not, I will just channel surf away from a Korean movie on broadcast TV, but for some reason something compelled to sit and watch this movie.
It’s a critically acclaimed Korean gangster movie from a few years ago, called 신세계 (New World).
Here’s the thing: the whole time I watched it, I more or less understood the basics of the plot. And the excellent acting and character development were somehow apparent despite my lack of ability to pick up on many details.
I didn’t even know the title as I watched it. I couldn’t figure it out, and I’d missed the beginning. Sometimes the broadcasters put little graphics showing what you’re watching in the upper left or upper right of the screen, but I couldn’t see a title in this broadcast of this movie.
How did I find out the movie’s name? I related the plot of it to a coworker, the next day, and they told me.
This is a kind of linguistic milestone, although I’m not sure how it could be characterized: watch a movie in Korean, tell the plot to a third person, and have them recognize the plot and fill in the details for you. Of course, this conversation was largely in English, but at least I was getting the plot from the movie, somewhat.
Anyway, I would perhaps like to re-watch the movie with subtitles. Or maybe after some indeterminate amount of time, that is approaching infinity, when my Korean is up to the task. [daily log: walking, 6 km]
Nosequién y los Nosecuantos, "Pacha." No entiendo esta canción muy bien, pero me imagino que el eslang tiene un sentido que no debo elaborar demasiado aquí.
Sé que el vocablo "vohue" es una alteración de "huevo," utilizando el juego de palabras "vesre." "Hacer la sapa" es probablemente un lundardismo. Respecto el título, "pacharaca" es una mujer ligera: ""Originalmente 'pacharaca', despectivo para muchacha de vida ligera o de entrega sexual sin mayores complicaciones, pero de bajo nivel social y mestiza." – según una definición encontrada en línea.
Letra.
Ya no recuerdas quien soy, yo te hice plan en la playa tu te enfrentabas al sol y yo me acerque por la espalda pasado el susto inicial, vencida tu descofianza buscamos de lo que hablar y cruzamos las miradas, me fui con tu direccion y tu numero en la agenda, y en la mente un vision mezcla de hembrita y pantera, deje q pasen los dias y a tu numero marque, y cuando por ti pregunte, me dijeron q no vivias, Ja Ja Ja . . . ni siquiera te conocian
Tu no estas obligada a satisfacerme, por eso no debes mentirme si no te apetece verme, trata de no ser falsa busca ser sincera siempre, quiza antes de recibir lo que puedes ofrecerme lastima que con tu gracia y con esa linda facha te quieres hacer la sapa y actues como una pacha
Pacha . . . Pacharaca Pacha . . . Pacharaca
Tu no estas obligada a satisfacerme, por eso no debes mentirme si no te apetece verme.
Pacha . . . Pacharaca Pacha . . . Pacharaca
Lastima que con tu linda gracia y esa linda facha te quieres hacer la sapa y actues como una pacha
Pacha . . . Pacharaca Pacha . . . Pacharaca(x2)
No te veo de nuevo, no quiero verte otra vez, me he dado cuenta de que contigo, solo he recibido un revez no te veo de nuevo en la playa, no te veo para que te ahogues me he dado cuenta de que simplemente eres una calienta vohue
When I was a child, there was a kind of an earworm song called "Little Rabbit Fru Fru" which my sister and I sang with great enthusiasm, partly because it seemed to annoy our mother so much.
I thought of that song for some reason, recently – I think one of the songs in one of the role play texts I was teaching featured a similar melody.
I found an infinite number versions online, with variants like "Little Bunny Foo Foo" and others. Most of them are just as earwormy as I recall, but there were some unusual renditions too. I particularly enjoyed one slightly postmodern version, rendered on the basis of a children's book which retells the story of Fru Fru AKA Foo Foo, with excellent Scottish enunciation.
They’ve gone and found his bones, finally. He was known to be buried in the Convento de las Monjas Trinitarias Descalzas, but the precise gravesite had been lost to time.
A short editorial in the New Yorker observes that this business of finding the old satirist’s remains is tied in with a creeping commercialization, i.e. the emergence of a “Cervantes tourism industry.” I’m not inclined to condemn this out of hand – it strikes me that Cervantes wouldn’t have been offended by someone making a buck off his remains – indeed, it’s the sort of scheme he’d have been on board with.
I suppose I have a special relationship with Cervantes – his work is, after all, the topic of my never-quite-written PhD dissertation. If I ever make it to Madrid, I’ll feel compelled to visit this newly-created bit of history, I reckon.
Meanwhile, just last weekend I read 5 pages of [broken link! FIXME]a certain book that, in theory, supports that never-quite-written dissertation. Not that I’m going to write it, but sometimes I think about it. [daily log: walking, 6 km]
