In Korea there is little sense of personal space. Your bubble of security, zone of safety is a construct of inconvenience, a crock of shit. It has no space here, being too packed for you to be feeling annoyed if a person walks right next to you, leering upon your person, maintaining the same walking pace as you, never leaving, always there, a Korean shadow that masks your own. When I was first here I was frustrated at this, always complaining that it was I that always had to move out of the way, but then I realised I was the only one that moved out of the way because I was the only one that gave a shit. Now I mind less having an elbow thrust right in front of my face or a lady knock my arms about like limp strands of spaghetti.
Even in Seoraksan National Park, a place of such natural beauty, like Yosemite or the Lake District, that when you reach the summit you dont want to leave, and when you do pull yourself away, you regret the decision a bit, because you know that you may never be there again - even here there was no chance of solitude or serenity, as the trails were full of people. Old people keeping fit and familys dragging their small children along, yanking them up steep mountain staircases, instilling into them from an early age the popular Korean tradition of hiking.
When you enter the park you are presented with the child friendly images of a cartoon papa and baby bear, exited with the adventurous prospect of ascending the mountains. I am assuming they left the country to seek fortune in the city, then missing their roots decided to make the trip back. See once again the steep granite rock faces, burning faint gold in the evening twilight, or a straight grey in the flat morning light. The forests deep with impenetrable mystery, when flashes of light shine off the glittering streams flowing down the centuries old carved waterways. I can see why they returned.
Things take a turn for the worse though. The papa and baby bears smiles soon fade as warning signs show impressionable Korean kids the disasters of such hikes. One image portrays rocks falling on top of papa bear as he desperately attempts to protect his child from crushing. The large rock is moments above papa bears head, just before it is caved into oblivion. One can only surmise that papa bear falls back on baby bear, smothering him with a slower more traumatising death.
Another image shows baby bear perilously close to a cliff edge losing his balance. You can see the terror in his eyes as he realises that he has reached past that point in counterbalance where there is nothing for it but submission to the fates. I assume that he fell to his death. Maybe he landed on other hiking bears, who knows. However I cant help but thinking where papa bear was, leaving his baby to roam free around the mountain tops. Negligent parenting, that's what I call it. He only has himself to blame. Live with that papa bear, live with THAT! There should be another warning sign later showing papa bear drinking himself into an alcoholic stupor years later in a gas filled room back at home. Bear that in mind. Hikes can be dangerous, you see.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Sunday, 10 October 2010
A Brief History of Happiness
"Hello! How are you?"
"Happy!"
Happy? Are you really? I look at the kids. Are you genuinely content with the world, because I dont believe you actually are. I think you're just saying it. It's alright if you aren't. You can tell me if your mum packed you a shit carton of milk, the standard range, and not a flavoured one, because I know that can fuck up your day. Maybe your best friend is spending too much time with another person, not fulfilling the duties of a BFF. Is it a girlfriend/boyfriend that you want? There is a couple in one of my classes, 7 year olds. I found out in class when the girl sat next to her boyfriend and said to me:
"Ameen teacher! Eric, I, together." I was shocked at first but then I realised it was normal. Kids are not idiots, they do know what more there is than friendship. I think the surprise came primarily from my distance from that age, but coming to think of it, I remembered that I had girlfriends at that age. Kisses on the cheek, holding hands, pointless walks around the school field. Then I began to remember a few girlfriends, oh my! I think I was a bit of a player when I was eight.
I remembered giving away my Stuart Pearce football coin to a girl because I liked her. What a fool. Never saw that again. And she never gave me a kiss! I've been a lot more guarded since.
What else is supposed to be ideals of happiness?
That magnificent career,
Educations purpose or consequence?
Maybe it's a partner,
As two may do what one cannot.
How about benefits,
Dependence can be comforting.
Anonymity,
No face, no place, some bliss?
What about friendship,
It seems to provide all the fun.
Some think the thought and search,
Eliots ennobling intellectual purpose.
Failing that, getting fucked,
A problem that solves a lot, given money.
Do you like recognition,
Fames fortunes finds no fault, yeah?
Happiness was invented in the early 18th Century in England. As the growth of coffee houses, prostitution, drinking and opium dens, reached an all new height, scientists at the time realised that a new emotion had to be manufactured to fit in with the hedonism of the time. A prototype was first created and tested on the willing participant, poet Alexander Pope. It failed miserably; after a half hour burst of ecstasy where he ran down Fleet Street proclaiming "I see the light!" he fell into a deep coma. Upon awakening he developed a humpback and shortened in height, and generally got a little bit more ugly. Doctors also recorded another side-effect - witty satire. It was the last thing they wanted to happen. It is believed today that Ian Hislop, the editor of Private Eye, has contracted a similar strain. This strain is commonly referred to as The Pope (aka Dunciad, Lockrape and Cock-Curll). The Pope is highly dangerous and is a big priority in modern policing.
After the Popotype Affair, scientists re-assessed the compound structure of Happiness, adding more Joy (a French invention) and a reduction of Erratic Behaviour (a disputed invention between Latvia and Estonia). The result was an overnight sensation. Revellers could now feel the correct feelings for their times. It was such a huge success that the initial pill form of Happiness had to be changed. It was pumped into all the country's water supplies, feeding the nation with an emotion that has been going strong to this day. So strong was its success that the French modified their Joy, and the rest of the world followed suit with their own version of Happiness. The German version, Glaubiestenfranggebotstung, is a particularly potent form of Happiness, one where the effects are not externally visible on the face, but doubly powerful inside.
Today with a recorded decline of fun and hedonism since the 18th century, due to growing trends of health consciousness and the invention of Reservation in 1813 and Prudishness in 1821, the strain of Happiness has been diluted to accommodate our more considerate times. However there have been anomalous peaks of Happiness, via illegal sources, in the late 19th Century symbolised by the Aesthetes, and the late 20th century represented by the Madchester scene, pioneered by New Order's seminal album Technique.
"Happy!"
Happy? Are you really? I look at the kids. Are you genuinely content with the world, because I dont believe you actually are. I think you're just saying it. It's alright if you aren't. You can tell me if your mum packed you a shit carton of milk, the standard range, and not a flavoured one, because I know that can fuck up your day. Maybe your best friend is spending too much time with another person, not fulfilling the duties of a BFF. Is it a girlfriend/boyfriend that you want? There is a couple in one of my classes, 7 year olds. I found out in class when the girl sat next to her boyfriend and said to me:"Ameen teacher! Eric, I, together." I was shocked at first but then I realised it was normal. Kids are not idiots, they do know what more there is than friendship. I think the surprise came primarily from my distance from that age, but coming to think of it, I remembered that I had girlfriends at that age. Kisses on the cheek, holding hands, pointless walks around the school field. Then I began to remember a few girlfriends, oh my! I think I was a bit of a player when I was eight.
I remembered giving away my Stuart Pearce football coin to a girl because I liked her. What a fool. Never saw that again. And she never gave me a kiss! I've been a lot more guarded since.What else is supposed to be ideals of happiness?
That magnificent career,
Educations purpose or consequence?
Maybe it's a partner,
As two may do what one cannot.
How about benefits,
Dependence can be comforting.
Anonymity,
No face, no place, some bliss?
What about friendship,
It seems to provide all the fun.
Some think the thought and search,
Eliots ennobling intellectual purpose.
Failing that, getting fucked,
A problem that solves a lot, given money.
Do you like recognition,
Fames fortunes finds no fault, yeah?
Happiness was invented in the early 18th Century in England. As the growth of coffee houses, prostitution, drinking and opium dens, reached an all new height, scientists at the time realised that a new emotion had to be manufactured to fit in with the hedonism of the time. A prototype was first created and tested on the willing participant, poet Alexander Pope. It failed miserably; after a half hour burst of ecstasy where he ran down Fleet Street proclaiming "I see the light!" he fell into a deep coma. Upon awakening he developed a humpback and shortened in height, and generally got a little bit more ugly. Doctors also recorded another side-effect - witty satire. It was the last thing they wanted to happen. It is believed today that Ian Hislop, the editor of Private Eye, has contracted a similar strain. This strain is commonly referred to as The Pope (aka Dunciad, Lockrape and Cock-Curll). The Pope is highly dangerous and is a big priority in modern policing.
After the Popotype Affair, scientists re-assessed the compound structure of Happiness, adding more Joy (a French invention) and a reduction of Erratic Behaviour (a disputed invention between Latvia and Estonia). The result was an overnight sensation. Revellers could now feel the correct feelings for their times. It was such a huge success that the initial pill form of Happiness had to be changed. It was pumped into all the country's water supplies, feeding the nation with an emotion that has been going strong to this day. So strong was its success that the French modified their Joy, and the rest of the world followed suit with their own version of Happiness. The German version, Glaubiestenfranggebotstung, is a particularly potent form of Happiness, one where the effects are not externally visible on the face, but doubly powerful inside.
Today with a recorded decline of fun and hedonism since the 18th century, due to growing trends of health consciousness and the invention of Reservation in 1813 and Prudishness in 1821, the strain of Happiness has been diluted to accommodate our more considerate times. However there have been anomalous peaks of Happiness, via illegal sources, in the late 19th Century symbolised by the Aesthetes, and the late 20th century represented by the Madchester scene, pioneered by New Order's seminal album Technique.
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