Korea Calls - but I'm in the shower

The first call came from Korea.. a job teaching conversational english to Christian Women in a tourism program at Kyungin Women's College. I turned it down, for a variety of reasons. First and foremost was that when I called my friend OX (the excellent Korean) he immediately launched into a list of reasons I should finish my MA, bring enrollment success to Swamp Valley College, and wait for a better offer from Korea.

This is, of course, the Korean way of saying "I know something about this job and I'm not going to share it with you, but for God's freaking sake DO NOT take the job!" Later, when I put the thumbscrews on, he told me that the guy helping me get the job would also be working there and I would be quite obligated to him in that institutional situation. This does not sound like much to Western ears, but in Korea it means the world.

Anyway, staying here will allow me to get the victory I need at work to have a good chance at marketing employment when I return to the states. I can also pile up my full 240 hours of vacation (paid out at separation) and finish my MA without hassle. Still, it was hard to give up the opportunity to trade grades for sex with Catholic girls. ;-)

I checked the advertisement out and it is classically Korean. If you look a the screenshot below, the advertisement for the English Instructor is in that orangey pop-up window. It is 100% in Korean, meaning very difficult for most English speakers to read -- something like completely impossible. This, of course, means that no English speaker who doesn't

a) Know Korean fluently or,
b) is recommended by a Korean

will possibly even hear of the job. Very Korean, that. It ensures that job applicants will come with a social context already in place and that, although they might not be the most qualified applicants, they will "fit" into the Korean context.



you've gotta love that approach!

Ghost Basketball..

Taking some shots of a coach for a newspaper article.. as I shot this kid bounced across in front of me and it reminded me of the ghost fashion shots...

The distant echo - of faraway voices boarding faraway trains...

I suppose it is wrong to drink beer before noon.

Which is why I went for schnapps laced coffee, laudanum and whisky.

Aaaah... a day working at home from the phone. Many lies over that evil device and more coverage of Swamp Valley College's coach of some importance. It's amazing to me how, when you don't care about your job, you can identify some little things to do that will make your work seem important. And the peoples will believe you are doing something.

Funny...

Getting close to writing my thesis and all the books I have ordered from various backlot bookstores are coming in. I seem to have an author that no one ever noticed and if North Korea would be accommodating enough to nuke Japan (well, in about 3 months) I'd have a book proposal.

Sadly, I have never been lucky enough to pick who should be militarily obliterated (the only part of being a Republican that I think I might miss) and so I will struggle on at work.

Alas, I shall never have groupies. ;-(

Now We're Showing Those Damned Commies!

Because we're not selling them Ipods.

How much more stupid can this get?

Oh.. it won't work..

Kim, who engineered a secret nuclear weapons program, has other options for obtaining the high-end consumer electronics and other items he wants.

Rock Rolls the 7-11

I was going to go to sleep but I must report a classic moment at the 7-11. I go over there to purchase some certain legal items that I can, by means of chemistry, turn into something like diet items (Oh, you all know!) and the nice Persian dude behind the counter looks at my shirt and says, "those are some pretty girls."

You see the freaking picture from my shirt and it's the New York Dolls 20 years AFTER they could try to carry off the 'dressing like chicks' thing.

I don't guess the guy is Muslim, but if he is, he won't be too picky about his virgins in heaven.

Good god.. the 60 year old Dolls!

Compressed Courses and Laggardly Instructors

So, at "Just Barely Accredited Online Master's Program" the cram our courses into gnarly little indigestible 4-week modules. As I've noted elsewhere, this leaves very little room for learning moments and many instructors don't even try. If I hadn't been a voracious reader and had my experience writing a couple of MAs for money I would be totally lost. But I understand what I have to do and understand the compressed schedule.. it is 16-18 weeks (depending on semester length) crammed into 4.

Which brings me to my complaint about the professors.. if they don't get me back my grades within a week isn't that like a 4-week wait after a 'normal' class? I work at a CC in California and if grades aren't turned in within one week of the end of the semester it's a cause for major trauma. This would work out to be about 1.75 days in the compressed semester (that might be wrong, there's a reason my degree won't be in maths!). Went I went to Big Important State University, they had assignments back within two weeks.

Shouldn't the evil profs have to live to some kind of standard?

Whaaaaaah! I want my "A!"

/whine

It Might Be a Guy Thing?

Or it could just be me..

But just now means that I haven't had a shower in 106 hours...
And I like it... my hair is a sculptural statement on beauty and age...
I've also been wearing the same T-shirt for almost 100 hours
I just did shave for the first time in those 106 hours, since trying to shave that much beard off early on a Monday morning usually means a nasty cut or a patch that is missed.
But all in all...?
I don't miss the shower at all.

Working my way to the trailer park!

Education is Evil and the Maths Support It

Knowledge = Power¹

Power = Corruption²

ergo

Study Hard and Become Evil!
(Hey, it works for lawyers)

-------------------------------------------------------

¹ "Knowledge is Power"
Sir Francis Bacon

² "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely"
Lord Acton

Holiday in the Sun

Turkey Day came fresh and bright, which was a nice thing after the rain-squalls of the previous night. The lovely BAG had been poking around in the little envelope in which our cabin key had been packed and, lo and behold, she pulled out two squares of paper. Each piece was a free breakfast at the restaurant at the campsite and so our question of where we would be having breakfast was solved.If the woman who checked us in had mentioned this little bonanza, neither of us had heard her do so and that made this a lovely surprise.

I drank the wine that I hadn't spilled the previous night (yeah, I know, complete wino move) sent the first post from yesterday off and we got our stuff together to go out a-beachin!

That picture over on the left is the carefree BAG heading down the hill from our cold cabin. You can see it was pretty darned nice. If by nice you mean puny and windswept. But, you know - nice.

The thing over there on the right is the Eye of Sauron from the lovely semi-sculpture, semi-garden place between the restaurant and the store of the campsite.

Breakfast was good and we headed on out.

The f irst beach, which the BAG INSISTED we visit, turns out upon internet research, to be a nude beach. This would explain the old fat guy walking around nude. It still doesn't quite explain why the BAG enjoyed it so much. Unlike the last time we stumbled (well, me anyway) across a nude beach, I couldn't get the classic pic of the guy washing his hands in the creek. Those proto-Neanderthal shots are the bomb!

Anyway, the second beach was very nice as well, as the pic to the right should hint at. At about 2 it started to get extremely windy and cold, so we headed up the highway towards a road along a creek that had been recommended by the campsite hosts. It was incredibly boring and the road ended abruptly, which we took as a sign to head back to the campsite.

By this time we were a bit hungry but since we had reservations for a complete Thanksgiving dinner we didn't want to eat much. So we grabbed some cheese and pemmican (can't escape from the BAGs essential Cheyennese nature!) and headed back to the cabin to eat.

We opened the pemmican and it was wondrous "State Miracle Pemmican!" The first piece I pulled out is over there on the left - an exact representation of the state of California (with the lines of fat which laced the meat exactly describing our internal waterways and freeway system). It was a complete miracle and I celebrated it by scarfing the stuff right down.

About 30 seconds later the BAG pulled out a piece and started laughing.

She had pulled Montana.

Later, I caught her chewing on yet another piece of the meat in a vain effort to turn it into something resembling Texas.

But the first two were legit, and if this ever happens again I believe the BAG will have a strong argument for three different miracles and thus an induction into the ranks of saints in the Catholic Church.

The lord moves in mysterious ways.

After this it was all just waiting for dinner, which was quite satisfactory and one thing about getting a plate at a restaurant is that it interferes with gluttony. This is a good thing. Dinner didn't start until 7:45 and by the time we got back to the cabin it was time to get under the covers, fire up the matress heater and cling together ("cuddle" as the BAG insists on referring to it) for heat.

Not quite a Thanksgiving like the epic one in Death Valley, but better than staying at home and watching football games.

HAPPY BIRD-EATING DAY! (Featuring hot, bird-on-bird action!)

Amusingly, when the BAG and I arrived at the first beach (mis-named "Bonny Doon," at least for one of the seagulls in the picture) we came across this lovely Thanksgiving tableaux.

And we wish the same to you and alla yours!

;-)