Happiness is not really mine to hold.
It slips thru my fingers, as grains of sand from an hour glass.
It fades away, as the the memories of dreams as morning comes.
And I wake, in the dark, to the sound of silence while my eyes grasp at my surroundings.
And the rain pours down outside.
Tears falling from the darkened heavens.
I am alone.
Always am, always have been..
Humble beginnings can shape powerful voices.
There is this scene in the film One Night in Miami where these 4 black Americans discuss their fight against the standards of white America. This discussion is all speculation but it is resounding. At one point Malcolm X calls out Sam Cooke for catering to white taste. That Sam Cooke had the attention of the nation and thus had the power to use his talent to make a change. Cooke admits to extreme jealousy over Bob Dylan’s Blowin’ in the Wind. How could a white man write such a powerful song about the African American struggle? After that Sam Cooke came out with what might be one of the most powerful Black rights songs ever, A Change is Gonna Come.
This film, Bob Marley One Love, shows a man who has such a firey passion that can only be expressed through music. It might possibly be excessive amounts of weed smoked, but Bob Marley and the Wailers were so authentically themselves. Unapologetically. There is a scene in their early life in which they come to a recording studio with a very white appealing song. The manager was less than impressed and as he is walking out they quickly switch to a more rasta song. It touches.
Marley wanted only one thing, for Peace. For people to stop fighting and to come together. His music never wavered from that. And as his fame grew and audiences adored his music, while they may not have truly understood the message of his music, the music still resounds. It resounds because it is so deeply true to him that one can’t listen to it without feeling it in their soul. And perhaps as he did his tour people responded so strongly because you can’t feel conflict in your heart while listening to a Marley song. You can’t feel hate while listening to One Love.
Bulgogi Pulled Por and random Scallion Salad thing.
With Persimmon goop, and Speculoos/Ginger Cookie Crust
The idea of going into a prison and working has never worried me. I am in the middle of reading The Devil You Know by Dr. Gwen Adshead, an English psychologist. She goes into prisons and does therapy with convicts. The idea is that everybody has a story and that every story deserves to be heard.
Maybe this series isn’t quite the same thing. Young Jimmy Keene, a star footballer, is arrested and rather than the sentence of five years with parole after four he is expecting, he is charged with more and sentenced to 10 years without parole. He is eventually approached by the FBI and propositioned to enter a maximum security prison and coerce a confession from a suspected serial killer. The reward for taking the job, his freedom and a clean record. After his father, portrayed by Ray Liotta, has a major stroke, Jimmy realizes his father wont be around for 10 more years. He accepts the deal and is transfered to the maximum security prison where Larry Hall is being held. The series bounces back and forth between the time of the killings and the time in prison, following police detective Brian Miller, portrayed by Greg Kinnear, as he tries to find proof that Larry killed some 21+ young girls.
While the prison atmosphere is gritty with corrupt guards and clear gang alliances, the focus remains primarily on the relationship that builds between lonely Larry and charming Jimmy. It becomes clear that there is mental instability in Larry, who convinces himself that the murders are all just dreams he is having. He begins to trust Jimmy amd eventually opens up more and more to him.
As the date for his appeal approaches for which it is certain that Larry will be released it becomes imperative that Jimmy get the confession from him.
The series is based on a true story.
with Cranberries, Walnuts, Red Onion, Arugula, and Goat Cheese, in a Mustard, Maple, Lemon Oil saucething
It is easy to wake up in the morning, brush your teeth, get ready for work… and think your life sucks. It is easy to understand the concept of death, and yet there are people who can’t understand the concept of freedom.
I remember when I saw a video of defected North Koreans eating meat for the first time. They were not children. They were adults.
We watch our 100+ channels and listen to our choice of radio station and can’t even comprehend a life of 1 tv station, and 1 radio station, the is constantly spouting propoganda and anti-American scentiment.
At one point, when asking a child how she felt once she had crossed the river away from North Korea, she cried and said she didn’t feel safe. When you live in a country that will put your entire family on a watch list for the disobedience of one member, how do you ever feel safe?
In an interview, one successful defector talked about remembering how after school the children all went into performance training. Not in some gymnasium with fat mats, but outside, on the hard cement, in the blasting heat, and the freezing cold. And you realize, while watching all the mass performances during grand sporting events and oohing and aahing over the synchrosy and beauty, that one misstep could mean extreme punishment. No food for your family, or even beatings.
This film was completely hand-camera style. It was uncomfortable. And I am not going to pretend that I didn’t cry. It is a world that seems almost science fiction, and yet, the most heartbreaking part is… it isn’t.
It only got subpar ratings, but it needs to be given credit for the exceptional acting.
So maybe it isn’t a film involving loud bangs and blood and guts. In fact, for a hospital drama, there is no blood, or guts. But there is a gratuitous amount of death.
These are the ones who confuse me. These types of serial killers. Medical professionals. Often, grossly labeled Angels of Death. Motivation still opposes the purpose of the profession. To heal.
I am not fully familiar with medical serial killers. This was my first deep dive. After watching a documentary episode on Charles Cullen a nurse who had worked at numerous different hispitals. He injected insulin and digoxin into IV bags. Not while they were hooked up to patients. Before they had even left the med room. Indescriminant and complete random chance as to who was given one of the contaminated IV bags.
Where is the motive? Where is the twisted, carnal satisfaction typical serial killers need? What was even the point?
He had no point. He had no motive. It was simply that no one stopped him.
I wanted to have something to say.
I NEEDED to have something to say. But my heart can’t find the words.
How ironic, when talking about a movie about people needing to speak up…
Based on a play this film depicts two detectives hunting down a serial killer in Hwaseong, Korea in the 80s. Directed by Bong Joon-Ho, director of films like The Host, Snowpiercer, and award winning Parasite. Also starring Song Kang-Ho, who has worked in a number of Bong’s films, as well as many other amazing films.
In the farmland of Hwaseong women are turning up raped and murdered. The real killer, Lee Chun-Jae killed 15 women and was reported to have over 45 victims over the span of nearly a decade.
This film isn’t gritty in the way special effects and edgy music can bring. Rather, it is slow burn. In the 80s when resources for detective work was limited and children ran wild through crime scenes, the hope of catching the killer seems almost hopeless.
But there is an energy amd atmosphere about the film that keeps you there with the detectives. You see them working tirelessly, at one point one of them getting IV fluids courtesy of his wife. And you see the toll it begins to take on their sanity as well as their moral compass.
Bong Joon-Ho won an Oscar for best director for good reason. He is a master at his craft. This isn’t going to be a Dahmer type serial killer movie. It is more of a ride with the detectives who are trying to catch the killer.
Na Hong-Jin’s directorial debut, this film is loosely based on the real-life serial killer Yoo Young-chul. Named Korea’s first serial killer.
After watching The Raincoat Killer documentary on Yoo Young-Chul and his crimes, this film feels surprisingly tame. The scariest kind of serial killer: one who doesn’t stick to the same pattern. At one point Korea was afraid there were two active serial killers on their streets. This film focuses on his last pattern. Luring prostitutes to his apartment and killing and dismembering them. These deeds only hinted at in the film. Nothing as jarring as the descriptions of the real acts.
And where Yoo Young-Chul, a true serial killer with no empathy or remorse was quoted as justifying his actions with “women shouldn’t be sluts…,” Je Yeong-Min is seen laughing at the police, cowering under a raised fist, eating chocolate. He does not evoke the spine chilling terror of a serial killer so much as a bored, teenage boy.
I think one of the most important moments of the real serial killer case was when Yoo Young-Chul was covered with a hat, a mask, and a raincoat, walking through a mass of reporters and civilians who had, only just the day before, been terrified. That moment was lost here, and with it the world building terror, the chill that runs down our spine.
But, this was just a movie.
All the curries!
Chicken Tikka Masala
Chicken Balti Curry
Curry Udon
Panang Curry
Chinese Chicken Curry
Jamaican Chicken Curry
Malaysian Chicken Curry
Kenyan Beef Curry
Vadouvan Chicken Curry
Anger, yes. But, I love cooking. Mostly this was a lot of cleaning out my fridge.
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Ground Pork and Green Beans. I sauteed red onion and jalapeno. I added some tomato paste and heavy cream. And a dash of brown sugar and some peanut butter. I had some cilantro, and then last minute I wanted so szechuan pepper corn.
Thus made Angry Noodles.
Good, but they really didn’t end up very angry at all.
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So I tried again, cuz I still had stuff in my fridge.
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More red onion amd green beans. This time I made a Jalapeno Pesto.
Jalapeno, pickled jalapeno, cilantro, garlic, oil, and peanuts.
Good, and much angrier this time.
Email to a friend:
“Huh, Joo Yun. Given to me by my family.
The story, as I have read it to be, my birth mother Ms. Choi, was young, 25/26. She left home to go to the capital to make money. She had no college education. She began working in a bar. She eventually began a relationship with the owner. Mr. Huh. He was 37/38 and was university educated. They were together for a year before Ms. Choi found out that Mr. Huh was a married man. When Mr. Huh found out that Ms. Choi was pregnant, he declined any responsibility and told her to get an abortion. Ms. Choi returned home, and had her baby there. She tried to keep her child, but such a task was difficult for an unmarried mother. After 6 months or so, she relinquished her child to foster care.
It appears that for a few weeks I was in hospital for sepsis, enterocolitis, and what is listed as just “URZ.” They say that I babbled and laughed and cried as an infant. I slept a lot, except for feeding, bathing, and playing times. I cried through bath time. I was shy around strangers, but recognized familiar voices. I recognized my own name.
I always tell people that my first word was “no.” That’s what my parents say. But apparently my first word was “omma,” which is “mother.”
A month or two after hospital, I came to America. My mother says that I was the best birthday present of her life. On the morning of her birthday, my family got a call that I would be arriving the next day. My brother was actually excited. He bought me a toy. Some stuffed animal. When I got to them he excitedly gave it to me. As the story goes, I apparently threw it across the room.
I became Rosanna Joo Hoskins. As I had told you, it seemed typical that adopted children are given their Korean family name as their middle name. Unfortunately, my family name was Huh (pronounced Who). My parents were not inclined to have me called Rosanna Who Hoskins. So they chose a different portion of my Korean name.
My mother always laments that my brother and I were not given the names she wanted us to have. Sebastian and Hazel. We shudder to imagine what strange fate we might be living now. Hazel Huh Hoskins… Father piped up, and saved us from whatever 80’s BBC period drama my mother had been living.
Rosanna Joo Hoskins.
My American name, my Korean name, and my English name.
And there you have the story of a name. I am not sure I have ever told it like this to anyone before.”
Jane Austen may have been a master, but she can’t hold a candle to Korean love stories. In-Yun, Fate. Only in Korea could such an idea be so poetic, so hopeful, and so tragic.
Past Lives could be seen as a modern, Korean version of Austen’s Persuasion. Two young children who fell in love, as only young children can. Na-Young immigrates to America at the age of 12 leaving Hae-Sung in Korea. Though she maintains the Korean language by talking with her mother, Na-Young begins to develop into a young American woman, while Hae-Sung grows into a wholey Korean man.
Reunited multiple times throughout time. Still harboring the love for each other deep in their hearts, timing was never on their side.
Celine Song does a masterful job of creating the tension and longing and energy between the two. The gentle rocking back and forth on the subway train. The wind blowing Na-Young towards Hae-Sung. The long, silent stares between them. Every background person one half of a couple..
This film is the ultimate question of “what if.” What if you hadn’t left? What if you had come to America? What if I wasn’t married? Who might we be to each other?
“In-Yun is basically about how you can’t control who walks into your life…and who stays in your life.”
Ma Vie en Rose 