Christmas is the time of year when the ghost of Jesus rises from the grave to feast on the flesh of the living and we sing Christmas carols to lull hi
I've been reading and teaching quite a few Christmas songs and stories of late. We have a show coming up and the kids have to do a little play and sing a Christmas song of some type. I have realised that most of the stories are based on terrible ethics by the protagonists.
For example: The Shoe Making elves.
One morning an elderly couple who own a struggling cobbling business, wake up to discover that someone (or something) has broken into their shop in the middle of the night. They find beautiful new shoes, whose quality is far superior to the lackluster offerings they usually make.
Instead of trying to get to the bottom of the mystery by: A - Calling the police and reporting a break in, or B - Attempting to find the culprit(s) so as to either scold them, or offer them a paid job with the shop; they decide to just sell the shoes and pass them off as their own work. I view this as terrible ethics (theiving even). It is not until after the couple become rich off of someone else’s work, do they decide to find out what had been happening. Upon the discovery that it had been small elves making the shoes, they make them dinner and some clothes. First of all, the cost of the clothes and food would be far below the remuneration due to them for the number of elf hours they put in. Second of all, who wants poorly made offerings from these talentless octogenarians?
Don't get me started on those F*^&*^% reindeers! What a bunch of yes quadrupeds! It was all - "You can't play in all our brilliant and fun reindeer games Rudolf", and "Rudolf!! You are a red nosed arse head!!” This was until their boss needed some help from Rudolf and all of a sudden he's the guy to know. They are falling over themselves to give him complements and telling him he'll be remembered for ages.*
So what are we teaching kids with these stories? It's alright to steal work and intellectual property from others, so long as they are weaker/smaller than you? It's OK to just attack with cutting jibes one minute, and then suck up to the individual as soon as they get a promotion?
*Unless I misunderstood this and they were still at school : "you'll go down in history" was perhaps a threat regarding what was going to happen to him once he got to Mr. Hay's room.
So, Dad, I imagine you and Missy, I mean Mom, have come to hear some of our most triumphant music?
Picture the scene. You are surrounded by your peers. Every little mistake brings about a chorus of laughter, and attacks on your character. Being nothing more than run of the mill or ordinary is the order of the day. Do not stand out, do not get yourself noticed. Then 'it' happens, you need some help with something. You raise your hand looking for attention but he is looking away from you, you wait a moment, maybe he'll turn round, but he doesn't. 'It' comes closer, all those months of not doing or saying anything out of place go out the window in an embarrassing flurry of broken ego. You open your mouth to say something like "Teacher, help" but your mind becomes confused, at the moment of execution you slip......
You call your teacher 'dad'.
Of course, things like this don't happen in grown up life, although I would be rather embarrassed if I called my boss dad (she's a woman), but it's amazing what people will do so as not to lose face. I'm don't want to look like I don't know where I'm going, so if I happen to take a wrong turn somewhere, I try my hardest to find an excuse - Go into a shop, step into the side of the street and look at my phone, or blame it on whoever is with me. I watch when people have forgotten each other's names (or worse when one remembers and the other doesn't) and they clamber on by using words like 'man' or 'mate' or 'buddy'.
Why do we even care what other people think in situations like this? I've got a terrible memory for names, and I make up for it by just swearing at people until they leave me alone. Everyone should be more like me.
This blog is about a kid calling me dad, I got sidetracked.
Dressing up is something I have never got into. It smacks of desperation, like you need something on top of being with people to make it a good night. Fancy dress parties always make me feel like I should have put in more effort, and those who do get all the attention.
I think it comes from Hogmanay. Bored housewives/husbands out for their one night of the year, being 'crazy' by wearing devil horns or hilAHrious angel wings. Get fun where you can get it, but really...... Bobble headresses????
All this said, yesterday was the Cheonan's Halloween party. I helped the guys at the bar organise as Koreans do not celebrate the night in any way at all. Loads of people turned up in costumes and not, and I think everyone had a great night. I chose mine only because I wouldn't have to look at myself all night. Have a look at some photos
here.
Hope people still read this, even though I don't write it.
Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines
Nothing is easy.
Looking around him, he wondered why things have to be this way.
The way the woman looked at him was full of nothing but distaste. Had he said something wrong? Had he gesticulated in a manner that offended her? Did he have something in his teeth?
He asks again “Incheon airport, one ticket please” (in Korean of course, as he has done several times before. She grumbles something and hands him his ticket – accepting the exact fare as she does so, the hate never leaving her face.
He goes to line up 30 minutes before departure in order to make sure he has a seat. While waiting in the queue he notices that while he had begun his wait a mere 3rd, he is now approaching the teens, and the line aging shows no signs of abating. He decides to allow it, it’s a big bus and who really cares anyway?
On the bus he sits alone (as always, unless every other seat is taken, no one wants to sit next to the scary foreigner). The journey goes by, hills go by, placid lifeless daytime neon goes by.
In the airport exactly on time – the flight is on the board and only moments from landing.
Lies.
Seconds before landing the flight crew discovers that they are, in fact, nowhere near Korea. What are they to do? Should they land on whatever landmass they are currently over?
This is not an option.
They make him wait.
The time changes, from minute to minute, moving constantly further from the predefined contracted arrival hour.
He waits.
It arrives, they leave, full of tiredness and hate.
Douglas Adams once wrote ‘It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression “As pretty as an airport”’
DJ got the party started, there's no end in sight
I'm done with apologising for not doing this, but due to popular demand we are back up and running here at Alanowski Blogspot Inc.
These last couple of months have seen an amazing change in the way of life for Alanowski(R). Having successfully negotiatiated the Korean system of apartment rentals, Mr Owski has now moved in with his loving wench, to the illustrious Chuwon Apartments in Shinbangdong. For the first time since arriving in Korea, our hero finds himself living in a highrise.
Living in these places feels like being a battery chicken, I wasn't sure at first, but I asked around and they all (all the chickens) said the same thing. So Mr Owski travels to the 8th floor in his great steel elevator, surrounded by gawping Koreans as they try to work out if he is there to rob them or attack them.
The move was uneventful. A couple of friends helped out with vans, the main problem being that noone else spoke English (there was one Canadian, but that doesn't really count). Moving furniture up eight floors is a pain in the ass though, the Koreans usually hire these guys that have extending cranes to take things in through the back window.
With the apartment nearly ready for habitation, Mr PC Bomber Harris arrived for his first trip to the land of the morning calm. Two weeks, 7 TV interviews and more kimchi than he'll have for the rest of his life later, he is now on board an aerowing on his voyage home. It would have been better to spend more time with him, but I had to work and he had to go off and offend random Koreans by ringing a very, very old bell.
Of course, nothing has been written about my holdiay, and nothing more will be written here. Have a look here for a really gay video of our exploits.
This will be updated more regularly from this day forth, stay tuned.
How many battery chickens would you need to run a hybrid car? Got to consider all possibilities.
