We've now been introduced to the two characters Kim and Thomas. A relationship between the two has been implied, while not fully established. We now examine Thomas' character in more depth, particularly his self proclaimed gift of having a cross cultural sixth sense.
Consider this as you read: does this story seem to be a criticism of or a celebration of anthropology?
A quietness came over Tom, a phenomenon that had happened only a very few times in his life. It was a sort of reverie that he couldn’t explain, an unfettering of the mind, a liberation of the soul. And it always preceded what Tom liked to think of as inspiration, a lucid vision of what he was meant to do in the coming moments. The first time that he recalled it he had been about seven or eight, sitting in the school cafeteria with a Chinese foreign exchange student, that sickening smell of tan noodles rising from his plate; another time had been waiting for the late bus home from school, and he had been offered a ride home by a Nigerian man. Tom liked to think of his forcing Chang Lee to pour ketchup on his noodles as another fall of the Berlin Wall; smaller yes, unpublicized as well, but to Chang Lee, equally as important; likewise, he’d understood the extreme danger of even exchanging glances with the Nigerian man that snowy afternoon, and his decision to report him to the crossing guard had been absolutely warranted. He knew Nigeria’s past, ripe with insurrection and violence; and anyway, how could he have known that his mother had arranged the ride? Tom had a “cultural sixth sense,” something that could not be taught, nor learned, but something that allowed him to merge seamlessly into any crowd, from any nation, at any time.
Walking purposefully to the computer, he googled ‘South Korean, supplanted, audacity’. Nodding knowingly at the 6,899,435 results, he clicked on ‘refine search’ and added ‘passive aggressive’. It took an unusual mind to understand the deep relationship between cultural anthropology and psychology, and Tom had understood it from day one- once again, he could only explain it as intuition.
The results were more than he’d hoped for. Smiling, he leaned back and scanned the list expertly. There were a few towns, generally rural, that produced an unusually audacious breed of South Koreans. It seemed that property regulations had been dissolved with the spread of communism, and in one particular village, all housing and privacy had become obsolete. Before long, neighbors would find friends and enemies alike sleeping on their floors and eating their food with not even a trace of shame. This same village was liberated from the communist regime by NATO forces in the late 90’s, and the entire population was transplanted to select areas of the world due to a tragic oil leak (which also rid the world of the already dying Silga Bird). With their unbending reverence for reputation along with their deep-seeded brazenness, this strange breed of Asians found themselves shunned by the capitalist and selfish masses, who were anything but supportive of the odd and unexpected Diasporas. Meager attempts at mental rehabilitation funded by certain international organizations had only left these ambiguous immigrants with an unshakeable sense of entitlement. Furthermore, Korean clan systems were highly topographical, and the surnames were strongly indicative of the micro-cosmic patria from whence they arrived. These facts meant two things: Tom could retrieve the most likely/ possible surnames of the cyber criminal in question, and he could locate his/her whereabouts. Voila.
Bingo. The three hundred or so inhabitants of Xian Cho had been sent via freightliner and then a shipped in a small fleet of Greyhounds to a small mountainous village in (none other than) his own native Wyoming. From there, it was assumed that the refugees had sought employment after realizing that they would not subsist off of the vegetable gardens sprouting on window sills, roofs, and in small back yards. Further, it had been primarily the male populace that had ventured out, leaving the women and children to tend to the peppers, tomatoes and squash- this only meant one thing- Tom’s good friend was a man.
Tom jotted down his progress in a trembling font:
“1) S. Korean, 2) from Xian Cho (look up derivatives of this name, possible attempts at Americanization- Johns? Johnson? John Joe?), 3) Male, (his projected height and skin tone given diet of squash, tomatoes, peppers, and noodles), 4) computer savvy, 5) relation to possible employment, w refugee visa”
Carefully folding up the list, Tom placed it next to his computer. It seemed as if it had been only moments, but he was surprised to see that it was already 5: 30- din din time! His stomach answered with a growl, and Tom raced down stairs to the smell of his favorite dish- mac and cheese.
Stay tuned for the next episode!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
'Thomas' Episode 2, Kim Jang Yung
We now introduce Episode 2 of our miniseries 'Thomas'. As you read, you may want to consider these questions:
How is Kim Jang Yung connected to Thomas- if he is at all?
Does Kim strike you as sinister or friendly?
Do you sense something ominous in the future of Kim or Thomas?
Kim Jang Yung opened the door to his small flat, and entered nimbly, the door hardly making a sound as it eased shut across the vanilla carpeting. Sing Chow, his graceful Siamese, leaped silently onto his shoulder as he pulled dry rice noodles from his cupboards. It felt good to be home. Out there he lived under the heavy stares of his coworkers, was becoming worn by their intolerant murmers (“Do they think I can’t understand them?), and it only began to fade when he settled before the soothing glow of his 26” HP monitor. He knew he was untraceable, invincible in the endless expanse of the internet. No one murmered or stared online. He was sdued19, raceless, faceless, androgynous and odorless. There was no loud laughing in cyber space, an American trait that he found particularly irritating. He’d summed them up quite cleverly if you asked him: They laughed, and they forgot. But they would not forget him: not tonight, anyway.
Enjoy!
How is Kim Jang Yung connected to Thomas- if he is at all?
Does Kim strike you as sinister or friendly?
Do you sense something ominous in the future of Kim or Thomas?
Kim Jang Yung opened the door to his small flat, and entered nimbly, the door hardly making a sound as it eased shut across the vanilla carpeting. Sing Chow, his graceful Siamese, leaped silently onto his shoulder as he pulled dry rice noodles from his cupboards. It felt good to be home. Out there he lived under the heavy stares of his coworkers, was becoming worn by their intolerant murmers (“Do they think I can’t understand them?), and it only began to fade when he settled before the soothing glow of his 26” HP monitor. He knew he was untraceable, invincible in the endless expanse of the internet. No one murmered or stared online. He was sdued19, raceless, faceless, androgynous and odorless. There was no loud laughing in cyber space, an American trait that he found particularly irritating. He’d summed them up quite cleverly if you asked him: They laughed, and they forgot. But they would not forget him: not tonight, anyway.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
'Thomas': A Miniseries
Since I don't have time to blog these days, I thought that I would share with you, my eleven followers, a story written by me and my brother a ways back. I'll do a bit at a time so that you have time to 'digest' the story (pardon the pun).
Tom sat stunned: another email from sdued91@hotmail stared back at him, unread. The subject was the familiar, “hello, u!”. Scratching his sweat pants, he leaned back in his chair, thoroughly unsettled. Who could possibly have the nerve to hack into his personal email not only once, but continuously? He pondered the possibilities, and given his cultural anthropology background, he concluded that this sort of audacity was only found in South Korea or a small tribe in western Tanzania (who would’ve thought his degree would be used for this!?).
Pushing himself out of the chair, he shuffled over to the bookshelf thoughtfully, and pulling out a well worn Introduction to Cultural Anthropology book thumbed through the pages.
‘Ah’ he said softly, stopping at a page and running his finger down it. ‘Yes, yes , yes…” He walked back to the computer and sat down, putting on a pair of bifocals. ‘Arranged Marriage… Avunculocal Status… Audacity.’ He stopped, whistled under his breath, and looked back at the email.
“This can’t be right,” he muttered to himself, running his hand absentmindedly through his thinning hair. He felt a cold sweat burst on his forehead.
Stay tuned to find out what out what happens to Thomas, the budding anthropologist. The harrowing series of events that Thomas will soon be rattled by will keep you on the edge of your seats! And there was no pun, I just wanted to confuse you.
Tom sat stunned: another email from sdued91@hotmail stared back at him, unread. The subject was the familiar, “hello, u!”. Scratching his sweat pants, he leaned back in his chair, thoroughly unsettled. Who could possibly have the nerve to hack into his personal email not only once, but continuously? He pondered the possibilities, and given his cultural anthropology background, he concluded that this sort of audacity was only found in South Korea or a small tribe in western Tanzania (who would’ve thought his degree would be used for this!?).
Pushing himself out of the chair, he shuffled over to the bookshelf thoughtfully, and pulling out a well worn Introduction to Cultural Anthropology book thumbed through the pages.
‘Ah’ he said softly, stopping at a page and running his finger down it. ‘Yes, yes , yes…” He walked back to the computer and sat down, putting on a pair of bifocals. ‘Arranged Marriage… Avunculocal Status… Audacity.’ He stopped, whistled under his breath, and looked back at the email.
“This can’t be right,” he muttered to himself, running his hand absentmindedly through his thinning hair. He felt a cold sweat burst on his forehead.
Stay tuned to find out what out what happens to Thomas, the budding anthropologist. The harrowing series of events that Thomas will soon be rattled by will keep you on the edge of your seats! And there was no pun, I just wanted to confuse you.
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