My church here in the big K is currently trying to do the same thing as just about every other nominal Christian organization in the world at this particular time of year - throw together a Christmas gala. And in the midst of usual preparations, I received a group email from a lady at the church, rejoicing that the venue had been finally reserved. She, being a good woman of the faith, of course thanked the LORD for providing the venue...or wait...did she? It took me a minute to figure it out as I looked at the bottom of the email which read 'PTL.'
PTL?...PTL? I sat for a minute trying to figure out yet another email abbreviation...the first thing that popped into my head was PTI - Pardon the Interruption - the rapid-fire ESPN show that we all know and love. I honestly wondered for a split second:"Why is this lady talking about PTI???" And then it hit me. PTL - Praise The Lord.
Really?
Giving a punched-on-the-keyboard-half-sentence thanks to the God of the universe is now apparently too much work for even Christians. But I'm not trying to rip on the email lady here - really. She of course did it with a good heart, but therein lies both the point and the question: is that an excuse to go along with all this, quite frankly, shit (PTF - pardon the french) that the vast sea of non-thinkers in our world so unquestioningly accept as 'progressive'? Let's think for a minute...those of us who still can - or rather, who still care to.
High-speed internet...webcams...text messages...ABBREVIATIONS. And I use them all...even the acrimoniously execrable mode of abbreviating the most simple words. G2G...PTL...TTYL...and then of course there's my personal favorite - LOL. Lol, or 'laugh out loud,' to the as yet unadulterated hearts of the world. LOL - I've actually heard human beings who claim to be people use it in verbal conversation. And no, I don't mean the full expression - I mean that I have actually heard the letters L-O-L escape the lips of person - as if it were meant to be a word.
Are you kidding me?!? A text-message abbreviation taking the place of actual words in verbal communication?!? Fifty years ago, it would have taken a coma patient suffering from a combination of down syndrome and Alzheimer's to consider this modern banter 'conversation'! In fact, as a tribute to the men who fought and died for the very freedom of the speech we now seem so incapable of properly practicing; the next time I hear some oblivious, Burberry-clad, ex-high-school-cheerleader-turned-corporate-VP walking down the street, lopping thoughtless 'LOLs' into her cell phone, I will unabashedly snatch it and hurl it into the nearest brick wall, leaving her with nothing to do but...COL - Cry Out Loud.
Am I exaggerating? Yes - barely. Am I making too big a deal out of three letters? Maybe - but I truly think there's more at steak here.
Technocracy. We all joke about it, we all cutely criticize the abbreviations and instant messages...and yet we all indulge...excessively. We're all just swimming along in a sea of pseudo-communication without a care in the world as to how long we can keep treading water.
Let's get serious.
It doesn't take a Martin Luther or a Malcolm X to point out this flaw and warn that if we take this path to its end, we will find it bitter indeed. Our great-grandchildren will be left with the resources of 'Star Wars' but the intelligence of cavemen. Follow the line of logic - that's where it eventually ends. When you find out that your MP3 player has a larger vocabulary than you, its time to raise an eyebrow. There are a few people who should already be raising theirs. Seriously.
In his first novel, Player Piano, Kurt Vonnegut prophecies of the fatal day when humans suddenly but apathetically find themselves invented out of usefulness; a day when we have advanced so far that life becomes meaningless. After all, what's the point of a high school diploma - we've got GOOGLE.
Now I'm not sitting here listening to Peter, Paul, and Mary and telling everyone to throw away their iPods and retreat to the days of vinyl records - in fact you'd have to pry my Pod from my cold dead hands before I gave up that tiny bastion of musical might. Now what I am sitting here listening to is the good old nineties rock of Matchbox 20, pleading along with the band to: 'let's see how far we've come.' Come on now - if the ex pop-rock prince Rob Thomas is mourning the state of the union, I think its sufficient to say that we ought to take a look around, and maybe, just maybe, face the fact that simply riding the rapid wave of the world-wide-web might not be the best way to live. In fact it might not be living at all.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Seoul Top 5
After 3 months...the top 5 things I love, hate, and have learned about Seoul :)
Top 5 - Loves
1) The people:
Koreans are kind of the Western rebels of the east. They have a chip on their shoulder towards China, and they downright hate Japan...and I mean hate. In the University District here (called Hongdae), you can find some interesting graffiti regarding the not-so-loved country of Japan :) They also have much more of a vibrant culture than I would have ever guessed and their national pride rivals anyone's...I guess in a way I'd call them the England of the East - a tiny little pennisula, but proud and powerful. Also, they generally love Americans...
2) The Internationality:
Seoul is one of the biggest cities in the world, and according to some - the biggest, so the international culture is huge...especially compared to Cincinnati :)
Weekends and nights out for me have involved: shooting pool with everyone from Brits to Ethiopians, talking music with an Australian rocker, trying to speak French in a 3-way conversation with a Parisien and Tunisian, and a few South Africans trying to talk me into using my vacation to go visit Cape Town with them. Mix all that with the fact that you're already surrounded by 23 million Koreans, and it makes for a pretty broadening view of the world!
3) The Rockstar status:
I do not exaggerate here, and I don't even know why I'm trying to explain it, because you wouldn't believe it until you see it. A few examples: I've seen busloads of kids hanging out the window screaming and taking pictures of me (literally, hands-to-face screaming here), free drinks and even free food are not uncommon, and people feel no shame in coming up and staring at me right in the face (even touching sometimes), as if...they've heard of white people before, but were never really convinced they existed until now.
4) The City itself:
Seoul is a monster of a city and you could spend 3 years here never running out of things to eat, drink, or buy. Everything is no more than a block away. The subway is easy, the taxis are everywhere, and if you're driving your own car on the weekend, its because you wanna show it off and are willing to sacrifice literally hours to do so. Overall, Seoul is a pretty upscale city, and the people here pay big to keep up appearances...makes it all pretty nice to look at...and be glad you're removed from.
5) God's People, Jubilee Church:
Maybe this should've been #1, but regardless...maybe the greatest find for me here has been my church, Jubilee. Its an English-speaking church made up mostly of Korean-Americans and foreigners -- and therefore has an unbelievable international quality to it. The Pastor of the church is a passionate man of God, and his desire transfers to the people, most of whom are roughly my age and in similar situations here in Seoul. It makes for easy automatic bonds, made even stronger by the shared faith. Sunday is usually the day I look forward to most in the week...uniting with all these people from every different kind of background to worship...seeing the true catholicity of The Church. I don't think it can be put into words, so I'll stop here by just saying that...God is good, all the time.
I'll post the other Top 5's later :) much love to all!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
again
Sorry the link didn't work...I tried posting a google reader document, but I can't figure out the right link to get to it, so here it is typed out:
You're in a big city, across the ocean from the only home you ever knew...Summer brings its heat, brings it sun, brings people out on the sidewalks and sees kids wishing they weren't in school. Your walk to work makes you sweat through your shirt, and when you go out on weekends you drink beer just to stay cool...
And then it hits...The evanescent changing of the guard - one day summer decides to step aside, and with a gust of nightly wind, fall is ushered in...
You used to think that summer was your favorite season...but there's something about that smell of cool air. There's something about finally being able to take a deep breath in the smog-infested city. But most of all, that breath of autumn air reminds you of things - things almost forgotten, or maybe only recognized in dreams - and you feel alive again. Its like a drug, a trigger, and a drink of water all at the same time. The memories of Octobers past come rushing back and your soul is entranced, enraptured, and ecstatic all at once. You think about that girl you used to know...wished you still knew. You think about basketball season starting up, about the bonfires and porch parties at college, you think about lazy sunny days with the window open and music roaring...all the little things that it took losing to really miss.
You nap in the Saturday afternoon sun and then wake up in time to catch the subway downtown. You go all alone but somehow that's ceased to bother you and instead of feeling alone, you feel alive...maybe for the first time. The train is crowded - everyone heading out on the first glorious fall day of the year. You see young couples hand in hand, you see friends arm in arm, you see the old folks sleeping on each other's shoulders...and you start to feel vacantly alone once again. But then you reach your stop, check the time, straighten the sport coat you've donned for the first time this year, and head towards the concert hall. Along the way you stroll past music stores, chic cafes, and uber-aesthetic bars and clubs...you're in the 'Arts District', and everything here is like a dream...everyone is pleasant, everyone is imaginative, everyone is excited to continue on their quest of perusing the next day of life as if it were a fresh art exhibit come to town. But tonight its not painting - its music - and you sit in the Italian cafe on the corner sipping a good beer and watching the people around you - everyone eating and drinking in anticipation of the more fulfilling stuff the night has yet to bring. You grin at all the smiling people, walk out, cross the long intersection, and head up the stairs, the din of city traffic already starting to fade as you enter the surreal sanctuary of the arts...
You take your seat, the lights dim, the crowd comes abruptly to dead silence and even the slightest shuffle seems a disturbance now. The performers enter through the voluptuous wood stage door and immediately the crowd erupts with the eager applause of anticipation. They bow and the cellist readies himself, flicking his bow hand and shaking out his fingers...the pianist does likewise, lifting his hands to the keys, retracting them, then placing them again. Hush...and the music begins. There are no monitors, no amps, no kits and no boards - there are two men - two men with two instruments made of nothing but wood, string, metal, and horse hair...and the music is glorious. You watch carefully as the cellist's fingers dance along the neck of his instrument, effortlessly caressing the wood into singing the sweet sound of Beethoven's sonatas. The pianist rumbles and flicks the keys as if they were slaves to his fingers. The sound is aromatic and potent, lush and full, and sharp but smooth all at the same time. A single shade of white light shines down on the musicians as they play...it illuminates the faces and gives the instruments the hue of ancient treasure. If you didn't know better you'd think that God Himself had opened up a little corner of Heaven so He could look onto the stage...and maybe you'd be right...
You close your eyes and the notes permeate your entire being. The wave washes over you like soft breeze on a summer night... you inhale, and the music cleanses your soul. You drift into semi-consciousness as the notes wind into legato. You close your eyes and see life as it has been, life as it could be, life as it is...life as it should be... Faces of old friends and memories of past times play like a motion picture in your mind, the scene moving along with every passing measure. You become pensive and careless all at once. You feel free once again... You open your eyes to see the spectacle once more. Two men in a spotlight, eyes closed, fingers dancing in vibrato, and faces churning with the music. You look around to see everyone equally enraptured. Turning your full attention back to the music you drift away and start to think to yourself... that of all the noises from all the beings in all the earth and across all the galaxies of existence ... you think that maybe God just might have His supreme radio tuned in to this concert right here...and what's more, He is delighted.
You're in a big city, across the ocean from the only home you ever knew...Summer brings its heat, brings it sun, brings people out on the sidewalks and sees kids wishing they weren't in school. Your walk to work makes you sweat through your shirt, and when you go out on weekends you drink beer just to stay cool...
And then it hits...The evanescent changing of the guard - one day summer decides to step aside, and with a gust of nightly wind, fall is ushered in...
You used to think that summer was your favorite season...but there's something about that smell of cool air. There's something about finally being able to take a deep breath in the smog-infested city. But most of all, that breath of autumn air reminds you of things - things almost forgotten, or maybe only recognized in dreams - and you feel alive again. Its like a drug, a trigger, and a drink of water all at the same time. The memories of Octobers past come rushing back and your soul is entranced, enraptured, and ecstatic all at once. You think about that girl you used to know...wished you still knew. You think about basketball season starting up, about the bonfires and porch parties at college, you think about lazy sunny days with the window open and music roaring...all the little things that it took losing to really miss.
You nap in the Saturday afternoon sun and then wake up in time to catch the subway downtown. You go all alone but somehow that's ceased to bother you and instead of feeling alone, you feel alive...maybe for the first time. The train is crowded - everyone heading out on the first glorious fall day of the year. You see young couples hand in hand, you see friends arm in arm, you see the old folks sleeping on each other's shoulders...and you start to feel vacantly alone once again. But then you reach your stop, check the time, straighten the sport coat you've donned for the first time this year, and head towards the concert hall. Along the way you stroll past music stores, chic cafes, and uber-aesthetic bars and clubs...you're in the 'Arts District', and everything here is like a dream...everyone is pleasant, everyone is imaginative, everyone is excited to continue on their quest of perusing the next day of life as if it were a fresh art exhibit come to town. But tonight its not painting - its music - and you sit in the Italian cafe on the corner sipping a good beer and watching the people around you - everyone eating and drinking in anticipation of the more fulfilling stuff the night has yet to bring. You grin at all the smiling people, walk out, cross the long intersection, and head up the stairs, the din of city traffic already starting to fade as you enter the surreal sanctuary of the arts...
You take your seat, the lights dim, the crowd comes abruptly to dead silence and even the slightest shuffle seems a disturbance now. The performers enter through the voluptuous wood stage door and immediately the crowd erupts with the eager applause of anticipation. They bow and the cellist readies himself, flicking his bow hand and shaking out his fingers...the pianist does likewise, lifting his hands to the keys, retracting them, then placing them again. Hush...and the music begins. There are no monitors, no amps, no kits and no boards - there are two men - two men with two instruments made of nothing but wood, string, metal, and horse hair...and the music is glorious. You watch carefully as the cellist's fingers dance along the neck of his instrument, effortlessly caressing the wood into singing the sweet sound of Beethoven's sonatas. The pianist rumbles and flicks the keys as if they were slaves to his fingers. The sound is aromatic and potent, lush and full, and sharp but smooth all at the same time. A single shade of white light shines down on the musicians as they play...it illuminates the faces and gives the instruments the hue of ancient treasure. If you didn't know better you'd think that God Himself had opened up a little corner of Heaven so He could look onto the stage...and maybe you'd be right...
You close your eyes and the notes permeate your entire being. The wave washes over you like soft breeze on a summer night... you inhale, and the music cleanses your soul. You drift into semi-consciousness as the notes wind into legato. You close your eyes and see life as it has been, life as it could be, life as it is...life as it should be... Faces of old friends and memories of past times play like a motion picture in your mind, the scene moving along with every passing measure. You become pensive and careless all at once. You feel free once again... You open your eyes to see the spectacle once more. Two men in a spotlight, eyes closed, fingers dancing in vibrato, and faces churning with the music. You look around to see everyone equally enraptured. Turning your full attention back to the music you drift away and start to think to yourself... that of all the noises from all the beings in all the earth and across all the galaxies of existence ... you think that maybe God just might have His supreme radio tuned in to this concert right here...and what's more, He is delighted.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
October air reminds me of
This is something I wrote originally just as a personal journal entry, but thought I might as well put it up here because it was such a surreal and awesome experience. Two weeks ago I went to hear a guy named Pieter Wispelwey perform Beethoven's Cello Sonata's (a classical concert - believe it!) Hope this gives you an idea...Tuesday, September 23, 2008
1
So after 2 months living in Seoul now, I guess its about time I started this thing!
This post is pretty much just to say: stay tuned...I'll write whenever, however, and whatever I can on this blog, hopefully giving anyone who's interested a little information on my life and times in SOUTH KOREA!
I've never really leaned towards doing these kind of public posts - I'd much rather just write personally (partly because its...more personal, and partly because there's a million people posting a million things on the web, and I don't read blogs myself). So who knows where this thing will go; but hopefully it can be a forum where I can share a little bit of what I learn and think, and where you all (whoever loves me enough to read this) can holler back at me with any thoughts, words, wisdom or stupidity you may have. Right now just know that I miss Cincinnati, Skyline Chili, and the English language in general. Dumbing my vocab down to help 4th grade Koreans understand English is taking its toll...by the time I get back home I'll be lucky if I can still read :)
much love to all,
Ben
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