Progress Report 19.1
Anyongh hasseyo, dingus.
How are things? Hm-mm. Hm-mm. I see. Well, it's the time of year for it, isn't it? Oh, I know, I know. You don't need to tell me - I've never known itching like it. And the smell! But anyway, if you've got something for it, it should clear right up.
First off, I would like to apologise to anyone who found the previous report too salty. I would like to assure you that future levels of salinity will be very closely monitored and curbed as necessary. And I'd also like to apologise for failing to mention the recent events of international significance that have been playing out in my backyard, and I should like to address this oversight right now.
When naughty North Korea had a crack at testing a nuke on the 9th October, there was concern from various parties that my spontaneous incineration was but a few days away. Whilst I appreciated the attention, I have to say that it was not a fear that I shared. Hopelessly and infectiously optimistic as I may be, I couldn't really perceive a threat from the commies across the border, and neither could the majority of my adoptive countrymen.
I do admit that I felt a whisper of apprehension when I first heard the news. CNN were first to sound the alarmism with reports and suggestions and possibly-maybes of devices of unclear size and substance perhaps being tested somewhere in the DPRK. Russia definitely, definitely felt something, they said, whilst Japan weren't sure and China thought it was maybe just a big lorry driving past. Despite the lack of concrete facts, CNN stayed with the story all morning and confirmed that if what they were reporting was true, then North Korea was very naughty indeed. 'Eeh, they'll not like that,' I said to myself, and as I was talking to myself, I knew that I was referring to the South Korean government's reaction to the possible detonation up north. The various knowledgeable figures available to CNN at very short notice concurred.
The tension built up throughout the day, with more speculation and more condemnation and more stock footage of Kim Jong-il waving at passing military parades. Most - if not all - nations were tentatively highly displeased with what they were hearing. People passing through the reception at my school were lingering longer to watch the TV. It seemed like something of apocalyptic significance was gathering pace. Then the powers-that-be in North Korea issued a press release entitled 'Guess What *We* Did Before Breakfast', and all restraint-awaiting-the-facts evaporated. The condemnation came as thick and fast as the wildly inappropriate metaphor that I just typed and deleted. The US were pissed - DAMN pissed; the UK agreed it just wasn't cricket; Japan called it a major dishonour; Australia decried 'fair go!'; Iran stated its opposition but still blamed America, and Canada no doubt said something bland and non-commital. In South Korea, the President addressed a press conference in a manner that was a stark contrast to his usual life-of-the-party, happy-go-lucky approach to public relations, condemning the North's actions to a hail of flashbulbs and grave faces as he called upon the world to just look at what they've gone and done this time. It was clear that the Democratic People's Republic of Korea was in very serious trouble indeed.
By the evening, it seemed that even though there was still no confirmation that a nuclear explosion had occurred, the world didn't like the idea that it might have one bit. But as national leaders around the globe looked up 'very angry' in the thesaurus, reaction from the man-on-the-street in Seoul was more muted. There was some news footage of 50 or so demonstrators burning Kim Jong-il in effigy, but other than that, South Korea was taking the news of the possible test very much in its stride. There was little panic, scant anger and barely a scintilla of concern. This was a stark contrast to the Western world, whom, on awaking and hearing the news eight hours later, seemed to be digging in for WWIII (or at least this was the impression that I got over the interweb). I, however, wasn't buying it. Until the Seoulites started to panic, I wasn't going to let it crease my brow for a millisecond.
You can tell when South Korea has gotten wary through the phenomenon of the 'ramen spike'. As a nation, it has every right to keep itself on edge - the 'Dear Leader' in the north has promised to "rain fire on Seoul" at the slightest hint of an attack against his country, and if there were a military reaction to Kim Jong-il's various misdeeds and poor choices, his 1 million-strong army would make the capital of the South the focus of its embittered attention as a matter of long-awaited priority. But despite this ever-present threat, and despite the tough-talking of the leading nations of the world, the South Koreans were not in the least bit flustered, for no ramen spike there was: when instant noodles sales surge due to panic-stockpiling, you know that something's got the Seoulites spooked. No, sales of the much-loved nutritional-equivalent-of-antimatter remained at their normal level ('much higher than is healthy') for the entire duration of the outrage.
So you can gather that the North's testing of a nuclear device just wasn't the event here as it was for everyone else. Even Kim Jong-il has now apologised for causing such a fuss. And yesterday, he said he was ready to return to the Six Party Talks. Well, what a surprise.
See, what your average bouffanted-shortarse-dictator-weary South Korean knows that the rest of the world hasn't yet copped on to is that the DPRK has got itself a strategy, and that strategy doesn't involve guaranteeing the complete destruction of its 60 years of dubious acheivement within half an hour of its declaring war on the world. Rather, the strategy is this: Irritate the world (particularly the US) by developing every weapon that you possibly can (even though you have no intention of using them), then use said weapons as a bargaining chip to gain concessions at subsequent talks. Shoehorned into a childish allegory, it would look a little something like the following, in which Child 1 represents North Korea and Child 2 the US of A:
Child 1: Give me a sweet or I'll duff you up.
Child 2: Don't you dare duff me up or I'll get all my friends together and we'll duff YOU up!
Child 1: If I promise not to duff you up, can I have a sweet?
Child 2: Okay.
From this textbook example of over-simplification, you'll gather that South Korea isn't scared because South Korea isn't really involved. In fact, if were to be included in the above tableau, it would have to be named 'Child 2's Weakling Friend That Only Hangs Round with Child 2 to Stop Its Schoolbag Being Thrown into the Girls' Toilets on a Daily Basis By Child 1'. So you'll now understand that as long as I'm associated with Child 2, I've got nothing to worry about from Child 1. After all, Child 1 is, at the end of the day, really only seeking approval and acceptance from the other kids of the world, but it's just going through that difficult 'trying to develop private ownership and a free market and move away from its current economic stagnation' phase that all children go through at one time or another as they grow up. Let's all try to be a little more understanding. After all, haven't we all been a bit of a 'pariah state' at some time in our lives...?
Anyway, enough of the politics - let's get on to the much pleasanter task of issuing a whole nuclear bunker-full of radiation-resistant, freeze-dried gratitude to Glynnford 'Married-to-the-Mob' Cooper. Why? Well, I don't think I need a reason, but if there were one, it would be that he sent me this week the following volumes: Blood Sweat & Tea, by Tom Reynolds; Phaic Tan, by Santo Carolino, Tom Gleiner and Rob Sitch; Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade, by Guy Browning; English As She is Spoke, by Jose de Fonseca and Pedro Carolino; and Pompeii, by Robert Harris. Cheers, G-Unit.
And thanks that would outlast a nuclear winter also go to Keren 'Aloha-Dubai' Still-No-Fixed-Surname, who, wary of the ever-present threat of international generosity, sought to top up her favour by sending me Smoking, Drinking & Screwing: Great Writers on Good Times, the content of which I imagine I shall approve of around 66%. See, I don't smoke anymore, and what's more, if the young punk sitting next to me at the PC bang doesn't think about quitting within the next second or so, he's going to learn exactly how disasterous an effect the habit can have on his health. Still, thank you very much, Keren, and good luck in the desert.
Right, that's me for now. Next time, I intend to clear up a mystery that seems to have been dogging a few of you for some time now - whether or not I'm actually enjoying it out here.
Until then, annyonghi kasseyo.
S
How are things? Hm-mm. Hm-mm. I see. Well, it's the time of year for it, isn't it? Oh, I know, I know. You don't need to tell me - I've never known itching like it. And the smell! But anyway, if you've got something for it, it should clear right up.
First off, I would like to apologise to anyone who found the previous report too salty. I would like to assure you that future levels of salinity will be very closely monitored and curbed as necessary. And I'd also like to apologise for failing to mention the recent events of international significance that have been playing out in my backyard, and I should like to address this oversight right now.
When naughty North Korea had a crack at testing a nuke on the 9th October, there was concern from various parties that my spontaneous incineration was but a few days away. Whilst I appreciated the attention, I have to say that it was not a fear that I shared. Hopelessly and infectiously optimistic as I may be, I couldn't really perceive a threat from the commies across the border, and neither could the majority of my adoptive countrymen.
I do admit that I felt a whisper of apprehension when I first heard the news. CNN were first to sound the alarmism with reports and suggestions and possibly-maybes of devices of unclear size and substance perhaps being tested somewhere in the DPRK. Russia definitely, definitely felt something, they said, whilst Japan weren't sure and China thought it was maybe just a big lorry driving past. Despite the lack of concrete facts, CNN stayed with the story all morning and confirmed that if what they were reporting was true, then North Korea was very naughty indeed. 'Eeh, they'll not like that,' I said to myself, and as I was talking to myself, I knew that I was referring to the South Korean government's reaction to the possible detonation up north. The various knowledgeable figures available to CNN at very short notice concurred.
The tension built up throughout the day, with more speculation and more condemnation and more stock footage of Kim Jong-il waving at passing military parades. Most - if not all - nations were tentatively highly displeased with what they were hearing. People passing through the reception at my school were lingering longer to watch the TV. It seemed like something of apocalyptic significance was gathering pace. Then the powers-that-be in North Korea issued a press release entitled 'Guess What *We* Did Before Breakfast', and all restraint-awaiting-the-facts evaporated. The condemnation came as thick and fast as the wildly inappropriate metaphor that I just typed and deleted. The US were pissed - DAMN pissed; the UK agreed it just wasn't cricket; Japan called it a major dishonour; Australia decried 'fair go!'; Iran stated its opposition but still blamed America, and Canada no doubt said something bland and non-commital. In South Korea, the President addressed a press conference in a manner that was a stark contrast to his usual life-of-the-party, happy-go-lucky approach to public relations, condemning the North's actions to a hail of flashbulbs and grave faces as he called upon the world to just look at what they've gone and done this time. It was clear that the Democratic People's Republic of Korea was in very serious trouble indeed.
By the evening, it seemed that even though there was still no confirmation that a nuclear explosion had occurred, the world didn't like the idea that it might have one bit. But as national leaders around the globe looked up 'very angry' in the thesaurus, reaction from the man-on-the-street in Seoul was more muted. There was some news footage of 50 or so demonstrators burning Kim Jong-il in effigy, but other than that, South Korea was taking the news of the possible test very much in its stride. There was little panic, scant anger and barely a scintilla of concern. This was a stark contrast to the Western world, whom, on awaking and hearing the news eight hours later, seemed to be digging in for WWIII (or at least this was the impression that I got over the interweb). I, however, wasn't buying it. Until the Seoulites started to panic, I wasn't going to let it crease my brow for a millisecond.
You can tell when South Korea has gotten wary through the phenomenon of the 'ramen spike'. As a nation, it has every right to keep itself on edge - the 'Dear Leader' in the north has promised to "rain fire on Seoul" at the slightest hint of an attack against his country, and if there were a military reaction to Kim Jong-il's various misdeeds and poor choices, his 1 million-strong army would make the capital of the South the focus of its embittered attention as a matter of long-awaited priority. But despite this ever-present threat, and despite the tough-talking of the leading nations of the world, the South Koreans were not in the least bit flustered, for no ramen spike there was: when instant noodles sales surge due to panic-stockpiling, you know that something's got the Seoulites spooked. No, sales of the much-loved nutritional-equivalent-of-antimatter remained at their normal level ('much higher than is healthy') for the entire duration of the outrage.
So you can gather that the North's testing of a nuclear device just wasn't the event here as it was for everyone else. Even Kim Jong-il has now apologised for causing such a fuss. And yesterday, he said he was ready to return to the Six Party Talks. Well, what a surprise.
See, what your average bouffanted-shortarse-dictator-weary South Korean knows that the rest of the world hasn't yet copped on to is that the DPRK has got itself a strategy, and that strategy doesn't involve guaranteeing the complete destruction of its 60 years of dubious acheivement within half an hour of its declaring war on the world. Rather, the strategy is this: Irritate the world (particularly the US) by developing every weapon that you possibly can (even though you have no intention of using them), then use said weapons as a bargaining chip to gain concessions at subsequent talks. Shoehorned into a childish allegory, it would look a little something like the following, in which Child 1 represents North Korea and Child 2 the US of A:
Child 1: Give me a sweet or I'll duff you up.
Child 2: Don't you dare duff me up or I'll get all my friends together and we'll duff YOU up!
Child 1: If I promise not to duff you up, can I have a sweet?
Child 2: Okay.
From this textbook example of over-simplification, you'll gather that South Korea isn't scared because South Korea isn't really involved. In fact, if were to be included in the above tableau, it would have to be named 'Child 2's Weakling Friend That Only Hangs Round with Child 2 to Stop Its Schoolbag Being Thrown into the Girls' Toilets on a Daily Basis By Child 1'. So you'll now understand that as long as I'm associated with Child 2, I've got nothing to worry about from Child 1. After all, Child 1 is, at the end of the day, really only seeking approval and acceptance from the other kids of the world, but it's just going through that difficult 'trying to develop private ownership and a free market and move away from its current economic stagnation' phase that all children go through at one time or another as they grow up. Let's all try to be a little more understanding. After all, haven't we all been a bit of a 'pariah state' at some time in our lives...?
Anyway, enough of the politics - let's get on to the much pleasanter task of issuing a whole nuclear bunker-full of radiation-resistant, freeze-dried gratitude to Glynnford 'Married-to-the-Mob' Cooper. Why? Well, I don't think I need a reason, but if there were one, it would be that he sent me this week the following volumes: Blood Sweat & Tea, by Tom Reynolds; Phaic Tan, by Santo Carolino, Tom Gleiner and Rob Sitch; Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade, by Guy Browning; English As She is Spoke, by Jose de Fonseca and Pedro Carolino; and Pompeii, by Robert Harris. Cheers, G-Unit.
And thanks that would outlast a nuclear winter also go to Keren 'Aloha-Dubai' Still-No-Fixed-Surname, who, wary of the ever-present threat of international generosity, sought to top up her favour by sending me Smoking, Drinking & Screwing: Great Writers on Good Times, the content of which I imagine I shall approve of around 66%. See, I don't smoke anymore, and what's more, if the young punk sitting next to me at the PC bang doesn't think about quitting within the next second or so, he's going to learn exactly how disasterous an effect the habit can have on his health. Still, thank you very much, Keren, and good luck in the desert.
Right, that's me for now. Next time, I intend to clear up a mystery that seems to have been dogging a few of you for some time now - whether or not I'm actually enjoying it out here.
Until then, annyonghi kasseyo.
S
posted by Stephen Beckett at 10:27 PM
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