Hey, Kheers buddy!
In the 1970s, Korea’s President Park I introduced a new economic policy called saemaul undong. The gist was that the government was going to take all the money being shoveled at them by America and Japan and they were going to modernize the thatched-roof-hut-dwelling, hole-in-ground-shitting, bindle-toting, mud-caked peasant sty that was South Korea at the time. People were told to be self-reliant. People were told that it was their sacred duty to develop the nation (by working for slave wages or for free). So positively Stalinist was the brainwashing drive that the loudspeakers set up around the country (which now blare air raid sirens for drills that everyone ignores) would play a little song in the morning about how everyone should get up, get out and break their backs – for, again, little to no compensation despite the re-purposed slop buckets full of cash being given to start-up chaebols – to modernize the place. The promise of this uri nara was that the nation would be eternally grateful.
Well we know what became of the generation that actually did all that back-breaking (often quite literally) labor in the 70s. A taste of how they were “thanked” can be found here.
Klown is a lie. In some ways, it is even more Orwellian than North Korea. Pigs in suits running the place. Some pigs are more equal than others.
Klown relies on brainwashing and self-perpetuating propaganda. If Klown were to be honest with itself, the fog of nationalism would lift and people would look round and see what a filthy fucking sado-masochistic society of deep, deep unhappiness they live in and the world’s already-highest suicide rates would climb to unimaginable levels.
But that fog won’t lift since just as the economy is propped up on shaky, unsustainable government (well, American) cash and bank controls, the “kulture” and society itself are propped up on lies and bullshit.
A Klown promise is meaningless.
A Klown handshake is a throw-away novelty.
A Klown ‘thank you’, well…
Since the Klown sokker skwad cheated their way to the quarterfinals in the 2002 World Cup that had to be co-hosted by Japan since nobody trusts the fucking Klowns to get anything right without have actual free-thinkers to copy off of, every 4 years the Klowns pull out their red shirts and shout all that uri nara bullshit in the mindless, zombie-like way that all Klowns do all things.
So their skwad, of course, was eliminated by teams that didn’t go on all-night soju binges and room salon tours, and returned home – some time after being eliminated I might add – to this. Thank you very fucking much, national team, now we’re going to pelt you with toffees in a bizarre gesture that means “Fuck you, GTFO!”. And these guys are the national fucking heroes for nose-picking, scream-talking kids all over Klown. They didn’t get ass-raped 7-1 like Brazil, but still, thanks, and fuck you.
The other story that caught my eye was this ban on international travel for public servants, which includes teachers. There is a post all to itself about the hypocrisy of waging a “war” with North Korea over its Stalinist tactics while employing all the same maneuvers at home, but I’ll leave that for another day.
Klown, the Konfucian “paradise”, sets teachers on a pedestal in accordance with the hierarchy of relationships dogma. But predictably, that is entirely bullshit. Teachers in Korea are already told through action in no uncertain terms that they are not valued, not respected, allowed no free time and tolerated only so long as they militaristically drill Q&As into kids’ skulls enough to gain prestigee on tests like the PISA (again, another post). Now their basic right (Article 13 to which Klown is a signatory) to Freedom of Movement is being revoked?
Well hey, chalk that up on the long list of Klown phlegm balls having been spat in the face of UN codes and values. But remember, a Korean’s signature on a document has no meaning, so anything signed at the UN is just playtime for a Klown a’come beggin’ with his hands out and a used-car salesman smile atop his reflectively shiny $10 suit and just beneath his caricaturish comb-over.
In Klown, “thank you” means you should keep one hand on your wallet and circle away.
Like most things in Klown, your naively genuine reaction to a thank you identifies you as a mark, a target to be taken advantage of, whether by your boss, your fans, your family members or the entire nation.
There is nothing real here. Nothing authentic or heartfelt or without some sneaky-yet-small-time angle to play. Even something as basic as a thank you is a Trojan horse.
A thank you would imply that a Klown gives a fuck about you and your actions. But they don’t. A Klown is a myopic and narcissistic fuck incapable of real thought outside him or herself.
In that spirit, I’d like to say thanks. Thank you Klown, for 8 wonderful years. Thank you for all the joy you have given my senses. Thank you for teaching me about your unique and special and old and globally-famousuh kulture. Thank you for Psy and K-pop and K-dramas and kyopos and the entertaining way you’ve decorated each and every street.