"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns." -Vladimir Nabokov, "Lolita"

"My name is Marc, my emotional life is sensitive and my purse is empty, but they say I have talent." -Marc Chagall, uncategorizable-through-isms artist.

It's time to go home now. Thank you for making my trip one that truly surpasses awesomeness: mikey/eric/youngkyung/nicole/sojin/minyoung/jiin/ah-young/yoonjung/jung-ran/onyu/moni/mihai/wayne/sami.

And most of all to Jay. Great times.

Social hegemony; yes, the return of "that" term.

Artificial life flows through the tainted facade of Seoul's complex infrastructure, as if the luminescence of bright colored lights will ever fully disguise a bizarre hegemony that chooses to focus the heart of a socio-economic norm on purely the extrinsic. Wow, that was a mouthful.

Koreans humor me. Fat chicks bond together here like diseased rodents might in an experimental colony; physical emaciation is not just a norm - it's a homogenous ideology synonmous with beauty. The intellectual remains comfortably absent in Korea like a hot girl at Stanford: it's not there, so get used to it. What passes for intelligence/intellect here is exponentially more gratuitous than what might pass for "literate" at Juilliard.

The suicide rate rises and prostitution becomes a social "escape" for rebellion instead of a social problem arising from poverty.

I'm hungry. I think I'll have some soju.

Koreans.

Innumerable count the amount of aspects of this culture I can't stand; but as most of you know, the girls rank high as #1 (with the humid weather, the bad haircuts, and the magnanimously gross materialism on there as well; granted, the antepenultimate is not really 'cultural'). But I digress.

I'd attempt to write a remarkably racist post on the Korean girl, but I don't really have the next few days to spare.

Is it racist if it's true? Probably.

I don't really like white people. I don't really like Korean people either. I don't really know any black people. I don't really understand Chinese people. As Jessica pointed out the other day, I tend to think raucously in terms of ethnic homogeny, either out of brutal convenience or perhaps stereotypical bigotry. Sometimes, the former and the latter blend together like communism and fascism: opposite ideals, same end product.

Racism is for the ignorant; but as many of you know, I am far from culturally ignorant. But I am racist.

It's been a great tour so far. We're 2/3 done.

In Daegu with a fever; temperature of 105 degrees. I am, however, blessed with great friends.

Thank you to my Nicole for taking care of me here. I'd be dead without you. You are the best.

Korean health care system: unbelievable.

In Daegu now.

The ironic paradox: it's impossible to find a dry cleaners in Korea.

I'm in Changwon now.

I stood on the beach last night of Pusan and realized that I truly love my life. Blogging carries with it a naturally embedded pessimism (at least for me) that drenches the viscosity of writing-style (or maybe just mine). From a quick browse of this site, life portrays its image as some barren hole of aridity, devoid of vitality and hope. I'm really not like that.

Jinjoo.

After beach-town Pusan, I'm now in Jinjoo. I haven't seen much, so suffice it to say that I'm staying in a probably-rat-infested sex motel uninhabited by the likes of anyone save old ajushis who rent a room-by-the-hour, if you know what I mean. What character to this town; the Koreans immitate the Japanese in economy, finance, culture, and every aspect of life; even the sex-toy vending machines.

I gave my first masterclass today. What a trip to be on the other side... Only today did I really realize how much I am influenced and how much I have learned from Mr. Lowenthal. He infiltrates, influences, and dominates my entire being.

Pusan.

If Seoul is Manhattan, Pusan is the antithetical equivelant: San Francisco. I can't remember having seen such a beautiful city; filled with bright lights, soothing waves, long-stretching bridges, a bumping night life, and great food.

Crazy Koreans:
As I was walking down the streets of Pusan today, a screaming/crying/hysterical girl ran down the street with her boyfriend chasing after her. She crashed right into me, grabbed me and clung on for dear life as if she might actually die. As Jay later translated for me, her boyfriend kept yelling at her "he's a foreigner! Stop bothering him!" Then she let go, and ran hysterically down the street, screaming at the top of her lungs, and her boyfriend ran after her.

Beautiful city. Crazy ass people.