run while you can

Man to ‘Man.’

Swift said it would be like this.* Icheon, South Korea. Spring 2011.

Dear Ben,
(Again) I must intervene in order to protect our future. Aesthetically, the blog is doing fine. My main concern, the main concern within of survival center, is appeal. In other words, our quarterly growth projections are grim. We’re so far removed from ‘relatable’ that we might as well be an alien life form. (I shouldn’t have spoken inclusively. You’re the one that’s not down-to-earth.  You’re  not accessible, dude ; you’re in outer space, groaning about outsiders calling your life an adventure. For chrissake, set ’em straight.**)

You’re a second-nature citizen in South Korea. Sure, the notion of complete cultural assimilation is about as likely as your admittance into an all-girls school (feminine is not female). The bright white spotlight known as your ethnicity, your language, hell, even your radical notions of individuality set you at odds in an Asian atmosphere. Still, sprawling sky-rise apartments, three-syllable full-names, and the underground thrift scene have become commonplace. Even life at school, life as a teacher, appears part and parcel of your domain. Many girl students are motivated; the boys are largely disinterested, more concerned with getting out of/into a worthy fight or finding a girlfriend with good teeth and fair skin. ‘Teachering,’ the term you’ve used to describe role-playing as an educator, has resulted in a myriad of new voices. Students with variant English abilities stick to a specific sub-set of sentences, the staple phrases; communicating with adults has prompted pidgins into flight: fall or fly. Language, you can now candidly assert, is the most complex system absorbed and executed by the human brain.
But perhaps I’ve got everything wrong. After all, I am the flexible; you are aging, fast-drying cement. The time has come to let hand-prints be pressed. The mind adapts much more slow than the body. All I’m asking is that you open yourself to being impressed.

Gainfully exploited, forever yours,
Julius Keen

With further respect to our content… even I must admit that, your poetry, spoken aloud or internally, has its moments.  You’ve got style, but style was never your weakness. Your weakness is mood (this ought to be clear enough by now).
“Teacher, you go to the crazy hospital?”/ Not yet, Nahee, not yet.

*You’ve found yourself a stranger in the land of Houyhnhms; interaction can’t get any stranger.
**The term ‘straight’ is in no way linked to sexual orientation. The expression ‘set ’em straight’ aims to depict dizzied individuals in need of some straight talk.


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