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MacArthur
Originally uploaded by Sangster.

I've been back in the states for about a week and a half now, and most of my time here has been spent recovering from jet lag and driving around to various bars and parties with my friends.

Every time my buddies pick me up to go somewhere, I eventually end up making a rapturous speech about the wonders of the air, the forests, and general atmosphere of the DC suburbs in which we live. These are generally cut short by my impatient friends, who have lived most of their lives in such luxury and are therefore ignorant of their own luck.

For me, after a semester of crowded buses and subway trains, tiny rooms, and treacherous roads, being back in MD, a mere stroll away from the Potomac River, is very close to a state of ecstasy. To be able to walk outside in the morning and actually taste air and your coffee instead of noxious fumes from all the cars, to wear a white shirt for a day out and discover no blackish smears leftover from the pollution on your collar in the evening, to be woken not by klaxons and screeching brakes but (I still can't quite get over this) by birds(!!!).

Luxury, luxury, luxury.

The Art of Hot Chocolate

choco
Originally uploaded by Sangster.

Here's one for the foodies!

I understand that popping a packet of Swiss Miss and adding boiling water is more practical, considering how busy everyone is these days, but the beauty of a large cup of real, thick gooey hot chocolate cannot be understated. Just ask monsieur Hercule Poirot.

Like all good food, hot chocolate is more than just something you eat. It's an art, and as with all art, the process is as important as the result.

Here's a simple recipe for hot chocolate, something that I think may be of interest to a lot of people now that winter is upon us. It's based on a lot of experimentation and various references. Like logs popping in the fireplace, warm socks, favorite blankets, and snifters with generous dollops of cognac, I think hot chocolate is something we should all take some time to enjoy.

Hot Chocolate

Ingredients:

200 g finely chopped chocolate.

500 ml light cream

250 ml water

2 1/2 tablespoons unsweetened baker's cocoa powder.

Preparation:

1. Start by chopping the chocolate with a good heavy knife. Obviously, you want to use a good, high-quality chocolate. Try any gourmet grocery, like Dean and Deluca's or Zabars. For the deepest texture and aroma, try mixing half bitter and half sweetened chocolate. Experiment. Above all, enjoy the process. Chopping chocolate is really a therapeutic exercise, akin to trimming fresh mushrooms or stuffing peppers. Enjoy the crunch of the knife chopping through the hunk of chocolate, and the soft noise.

2. Mix the cream, water, and cocoa powder in a small saucepan and bring to a soft simmer over a low-medium flame. Temperature control here is the key. You don't want to boil the cream too vigorously, because that will result in a weird protein-heavy smell, but you don't want to take too long, or the cream will just go over and be ruined. It should be just enough for a good steam to work up from the surface. It's also fun to add a stick of vanilla or a dollop of cognac or Bailey's while you're doing this, according to your taste.

3. Take the hot cream off the flame. Stir in the chopped chocolate, making sure it is evenly melted with no lumps.

4. Here's the important part: to truly enjoy the texture and flavor of the chocolate, you want to let the mixture cool for a while before reheating it and finally tasting. Personally, I'd recommend covering it and keeping it in the fridge for at least an hour or two before bringing it back to a good simmer and pouring it into a good heavy mug or cup to enjoy.

That's about it! Try it! Enjoy it! Experiment a bit and send me some suggestions to improve the recipe! Happy winter everybody!

Why my head is so big

It's not my head, really. It's more a matter of the hair.

Have you seen my hairstyle lately? Well, probably not, if you haven't been within the borders of South Korea in the past day. This week I'm trying the "sexually questioning Chelsea underground nightclub groupie" hairdo. I bought special sculpting lotion to keep it just so.

I've discovered that whenever I change my 'do -- which is every time I rediscover myself, which is after every new episode of Korean Idol on TV -- I find myself subtly changing to fit the look. Why, my personality is so malleable that I can be a closeted metrosexual one week, a homo-pretending exploitative straight guy the second week, and a retro queer with a penchant for high school girls the next. I'm unstoppable!

Hmm. My latest 'do is flaking a bit. I'd better peruse the next issue of Vanity Fair for hair hints. I guess the only direction I can go with the next cut is toward my scalp. I wonder what I'll do when I run out of hair to play with? (Shall I consult my materials science textbook?)

I suppose that would leave me with just my head. Me, my head, and I. My big ol' head. My mom (while spanking me with a broom) once said that my head was the same size as it is now when I was born. I know all the laws of elasticity by heart, but that sounds pretty painful.

In any case, I don't need any more head. That's enough for me! My, that's quite a breeze. I hope my chest toupee doesn't get too ruffled.

Google Me!

At the suggestion of my ever-present friend Andy, today I did something at once hopelessly narcissistic and pathetically self-conscious: I Googled myself.

There were many interesting things to be found!

For example, I learned that somewhere online, there is still a record of my presence on the 1999 honor roll of Northwest High School, in Germantown, MD.

I learned that my name also refers to a class of diesel-electric propulsion submarines currently used by the South Korean Navy.

But the greatest harvest from this exercise was the following gem:

When A Coma Sang & Thugs O' Pee - This is a dedication to my chief influence, ShaneMacGowan and the Pogues.

Is that the most amazing non-sequitor you've ever heard, or what? Amazing, what joys there are to be found all over the net.

Yeah. Sleep Deprivation...

Jjsang: touche
Jjsang: that's "touch" plus an e
dopeymanX: thanks
Jjsang: very "profound," eh?
dopeymanX: "yes"
Jjsang: in order to find the allowed energies, we solve the Schroedinger equation for the regions where V = V0 and for the regions where V= 0 separately, and then apply the appropriate boundary conditions to assure continuity and periodicity of the wave function
dopeymanX: ==<
dopeymanX: ==>

New York

Please keep in mind that the offensive slander posted by my friend Andy just below is grossly misinformed. I would never consider chopsticks to be inferior to silverware. Wielding a pair of chopsticks requries dexterity, grace and precision. It's almost an art. With a fork, you're basically puncturing your food.

That said, the rest of that post seems embarassingly accurate.

Anyhow, during my obsessive research for the road trip this winter (mentioned in a previous post), I was suddenly reminded of a writing assignment from high school which I enjoyed a great deal(Yes. I enjoyed high school writing assignments. Who gives a flying fuck. All high school students are, by definition, hopelessly uncool anyway).

The assignment was to write an imitation of Carl Sandburg's "Chicago." I, of course, chose to write about New York, the city that was most familiar to me at the time. The writing, even for something written a million years ago, is frivolous, juvenile, and cliched. Still, I'm fond of this piece for some reason.

So here it is, for your enjoyment. Please feel free to post scathing, taunting comments.

New York

Designer for the World,

Art Trader, Builder of Skyscrapers,

Player with Finances, and the Nation's Glamorous Runway;

Rugged, urbane, pulsing,

City of Many Faces:

They tell me you are heartless and I believe them, for I have seen your rich elite

walking past the limbless veterans sitting on air vents.

And they tell me you are violent, and I answer: Yes, I believe you, I know that death

and rape are no longer even worthy of the evening news.

And they tell me you are haughty and my reply is: On the faces of cosmopolitan

singles and businessmen I have seen arrogance towards southern drawls.

And having answered thus I look once more at those who dare to challenge this

city, and I challenge them in turn, and say to them:

Very well, show me another city so revered by the world, for it is stylish and

intelligent, eccentric and cunning.

Sculpting the nation's culture amid the chaos of brute labor and lofty art, here is

an icon glowing and overpowering the vain, insignificant cities;

Mad, as an artist throwing paint against a canvas, thoughtful, as an old gentleman

walking a dog through the neighborhood,

Muscular,

Chiseling,

Erasing,

Sketching,

Painting, tearing, repainting,

Beneath the smog, buttoning his impeccably tailored Armani with callused fingers, breathing with a

proud puff of his chest at every breath,

Under the stress of work and development and expectations, breathing as a proud

asthmatic runner runs on the last lap,

Breathing even as an inspired sculptor breathes who has been hit by a sudden wave

of creativity,

Flexing and breathing for in his body is life, and in his mind the ideas and thoughts

of the people

Breathing!

Breathing the mercurial, excited, laughing breath of Creation,

well-dressed, shouting, proud to be Designer, Art Trader, Builder of

Skyscrapers, Player with Finances and the Glamorous Runway of the Nation.

Suave soldier

Come next fall, I am due to be conscripted in the Korean military. And I have what it takes.

I can make any bed to regulation standard in 20 seconds, flat. Starched or unstarched, soft or hard, bunk or single, queen or twin, I can handle it without a problem. I will diligently shine my shoes with the finest polish, using only fresh oilcloth. When I am asked to tremble on command, I will also do this to the utmost precision. While I do not condone the use of guns, I will handle mine with the requisite amount of hand cream in order to stave off excess sweating.

On the battlefield, I will keep my cool. To be precise, I will do this by looking cool. My hair, which I will not allow to be court-martialed by an army butcher, will remain in place even in the roughest combat situations. My uniform, neatly pressed, will be my constant, my guiding light, through all my suffering and angst.

I will also be an asset at base camp. In the kitchen, I will create the finest Korean dishes in order to keep our troops satisfied. I will demand the purest ingredients, the most genuine recipes, and a dedicated staff. I will also require the tables to be set with napkins, silverware, and wine glasses. If we resort to standard-issue dreck and chopsticks, why, Kim Jong-Il has already won. I will not let him steal our movie stars and our dignity.

We will prevail, one lentil at a time.

Road Trippin'

image_22893772004121182430
Originally uploaded by Sangster.

This winter, I'll be meeting up with my friends Andy, Lauro, and Mahmood, and setting off on what will probably be my last road trip for several years. I guess you could consider this a sequel to our trip last winter through Atlanta and New Orleans, an experience which blew away our very high expectations. I'm hoping very much that this year's excursion will be as enjoyable.

Sure, we'll all be graduating pretty soon. After that, we'll probably scatter off to whatever jobs or occupations come upon us, working most of the year, looking back nostaligically on these crazy college days when, quite frankly, the workload is bearable and the break periods adequate. The adults are right, and I'm sure that the over-used cliche that these are the best years of our lives holds a great amount of truth.

So, in the closing season of our student lives and the onset of real adulthood, I hope we'll be able to make this trip something worth looking back on. I hope that the good times we have this winter will be something that I can store away in a closet somewhere and take out months or years later when everything seems to be going to hell.

DC → New York → Boston → Bar Harbor, Maine → Amherst → Ithaca

I'd say that looks like a pretty good route, wouldn't you?

Plenty of opportunities for splurging on posh restaurants, reveling in hotel rooms which would probably be out of our range, jumping into random dive bars, haggling to gain entrance to trendy nightbclubs, attempting to mingle with beautiful rich crowds at hotel bars, stuffing our faces with delicious all-american truck stop breakfast food, smoking cigars, dreaming of messy anonymous sex, shopping for cheap wine and ordering out for pizza... Like I said, things to dust off and remember in later years.

And best of all, to think of the conversations we'll have while pre-gaming in our hotel room with vodka or scotch or tequila or God knows what, makes the ordeal of my upcoming exams (which I should be studying for right now) seem somewhat more bearable.

Here's to January, and to good times.

Yeah Dad!

The following is a letter from my dad, the minister for public affairs at the South Korean Embassy in DC, to William Kristol of the Weekly Standard. It was written in response to this misguided article by a Dr. Nicholas Eberstadt,and apparently, it will be published on the Dec. 20th issue. I think it's a pretty decent diplomatic defense of South Korea's stance on the whole N. Korea issue.

Mr. William Kristol
Editor
The Weekly Standard
1150 17th Street, N.W. Suite 505
Washington, DC 20036

Dear Mr. Kristol,

Suggestions on how to negotiate with North Korea are most persuasive when they incorporate practical experience and objective analysis of all relevant factors. "Tear Down this Tyranny," by Dr. Nicholas Eberstadt (Nov. 29, 2004), reflects too much reliance on unproven theory and not enough consideration of practical experience. In a word, it is impractical.

To resolve the North Korean nuclear issue, "Tear Down this Tyranny" implicitly recommends a more confrontational U.S. policy approach that is not likely to bear fruit. North Korea has never succumbed to external pressure over the past fifty years, despite the wishes of foreign ideologues. Conversely, pressure tactics have strengthened the regime.

With respect to the six recommendations that Eberstadt makes, I will limit my comments to points four and five. The fourth recommendation that Washington “[work] around the pro-appeasement crowd in the South Korean government” offends on multiple levels. Calling on the U.S. government to intervene in South Korean domestic politics is inappropriate, to say the least, while the article’s contempt for South Korean democracy is breathtaking. Confusing “appeasement” with thoughtful diplomacy is irresponsible. Ignoring South Korean experience in negotiating with North Korea is not wise. We South Koreans fully recognize the difficulties of negotiating with Pyongyang, having conducted more such negotiations than any other nation. Aware of what approaches are likely to generate agreeable or counterproductive responses from North Koreans, we have a different view on how to deal with North Korea.

The fifth recommendation – “Readying the nondiplomatic instruments for North Korea threat reduction” – seems to imply that the United States should unilaterally implement military measures to end North Korea’s nuclear program. Such a recommendation ignores the consequences on U.S. allies in the region and other states as well as the subsequent implications for U.S. influence in the region. If the author is advocating war, can he wonder why North Korea would seek to improve its defense capabilties?

Peaceful resolution of the North Korean nuclear issue in a way that strengthens the ROK-U.S. alliance and preserves U.S. influence in the region will solidify President Bush’s legacy far more effectively than the suggestions outlined in the article. South Koreans and the government of President Roh Moo-hyun stand firmly with the United States in crafting policies to achieve these important objectives.

Sincerely,
Soo-Dong O
Minister for Public Affairs
Embassy of the Republic of Korea

Drinking

Ah yes, friends and neighbors... further mature observations from by best friend Andy, for your enjoyment. Obviously, he has no work to do in preparation for his final exams.
In any case, the really pathetic thing is that I was probably more drunk in the wine picture than I was in the hideous scooter scene.

Since the topic drinking has been brought up, I guess writing down some random thoughts on it should be as good a waste of time as any.

- For the love of God, will you westerners please EAT some food when you drink? I can't understand how you can stand to pour shots down your throat all night with no food to soak some of it up. Come on, you eat Mexican food, pop aspirin like M&M's, guzzle greasy diner food(mmmmm) for breakfast, when your stomach is most vulnerable. Don't you think it would be wise to have something in your system to keep that alcohol from sloshing around and making you sick?
Don't get me wrong. Nobody is a bigger supporter of getting gloriously fucked up than I am. I'm just saying, save yourself the skidmarks! We Koreans, with our scandalously fiery foods and inexcusable drinking habits, make it a point to have light foods, called anju, when we drink. The anju depends on the drink. French fries or fried calamari with beer, perhaps. Hot, spicy broths with soju(the 46 proof national rice-based liquor of choice). Fruits and dried meats with whiskey. In any case, we don't drink ourselves silly without making sure we sponge up that ungodly mess in our stomachs.
Go ahead, pop those schnapps or jagers or straight vodkas or whatever it is you're using. But please, eat something, too!

- All you bartenders! Everywhere! New York, DC, Detroit, wherever the fuck you are! Learn to mix a fucking Martini! Let's make this very clear. A Martini is more than just chilled gin. Even more important, it's not a vodka drink. Unless I ask for a vodka martini, do not ask whether I want one. If I ask for a martini, I am asking for a controlled mixture of gin and vermouth, with an olive garnish. I have not mentioned anything that concerns vodka. Do not give me cold gin and tell me it is 'dry.' A dry martini is a martini with minimal vermouth. That does not mean it does not require vermouth. A dry martini is not cold gin.
Do not, for the love of God, use cheap olives, or even worse, olives that were clearly meant for cheap pizzas. A martini is a classic. A martini is akin to Gershwin, Thurber, a quiet gray suit, a pair of dark loafers, a tailored cigarette. It never goes out of style. It is never redefined. Please, before we all run out asking for a surfer on acid, or a quick fuck, or a B-52, let's all show some respect, huh?
Save the classic Martini!

- What the fuck is the deal with you snobs who still think it's cool to be a pompous dick when you pick a bottle of wine? Let's be honest, most of you are worrying whether you will pronounce the name correctly or get a condescending smile from the waiter. Meanwhile, you're probably just picking something in the upper area of your allowed price range, not choosing something that will complement your meal. If you were really worried about that, you wouldn't be ordering a prosciutto antipasto plate before the trendy seafood dish.
Even if you do know your wines, is it so terrible to have something that you don't consider chic enough? Are you so insecure that you still think wine is a fashion statement, and not a beverage? Besides, how many of you wine gurus can say you shudder at the thought of a hot Krispy Kreme donut, or an occasional Big Mac? Let's drop the act, eh?
I like nice wines, too. I study periodicals and reviews. I spend too much money tasting, probably. But I also love to pop a bottle of Yellowtail Shiraz with my buddies and guzzle it with chicken parmesan pizza. That experience is no less enjoyable than a sublime Rothschild. You don't like that people are starting to chill Beaujolais reds? Fuck you! Nobody's making you drink it!
So please, spare us the whole elitist act. It's just a drink, the way truffles are just food. At times, a wonderful and special drink. But just a drink nonetheless. Don't wrinkle your nose at screw-top bottles like some vegetarian god confronting a cockroach in his salad.


OK, that's enough for now, I guess. But don't be surprised if good ol' C2H5OH is mentioned again.

Before ... 

After. 

Sigh....

I suppose it's really my fault for opening up a blog and posting only one word. Even worse, I was foolish enough to invite my so-called "best friends" to post, naively assuming that they would leave insightful, witty, and interesting observations on whatever happened to catch their attention. Considering my experience with these fools, I should have known otherwise.

Aherm. In my defense...

1. I do find certain consent laws to be ludicrous. The puritan prudery so obviously dominating American society is outdated and unsuitable for the world we live in. Hop on any international flight, and ask the first person you meet when you get off.

Trust me, everyone knows that Americans are just fucking prude.

2. On the subject of getting laid at 30,000 feet... why not? Is it so wrong to want to get lucky? Come on, international travel is sexy. Everyone is thinking about sex when they board a plane. Having said that, my actual accomplishments on flights remain very limited; my success with air hostesses more or less non-existant.

A more heated and bitter tirade against the current state of air travel will follow very soon.

3. Finally, can we all just get together and agree that paying attention to attire, manners, and general public behavior is something to aspire to? The term 'metro-sexual' irritates me a great deal, but what's worse is that the advent of the term have brought negative attention to people who make an attempt to make themselves presentable. As my best friend explained to me when I first heard the term, "it refers to guys who act gay to get laid." Perhaps. But who can honestly say that they've never tried that one?
Besides, it's not just about getting laid. It's about feeling good about yourself. I'll be honest. I look at cuff shapes and collar construction and stitch ends when I shop for shirts. I tie different knots depending on the necktie, the outfit, or the occasion. I know the difference between a tuxedo and a fancy black suit. I worry about matching my socks with both my shoes and my pants. My cocktail choices will depend on the hour of the day and the season.
I do this because it makes me feel more comfortable about myself. I do not do it to get laid.


I opened this blog with the intention of rambling about the things that I'd like to bring up at conversations, but can't, for the fear of boring the listener. What with these shameless cheap shots taken by my buddies, I guess I'm off to a pretty good start.

Consent, conshment

One thing I hate about America is the so-called "age of consent" laws. Depending upon the state, there are different rules for what particular age-coupling is legal and what will get you a one-way ticket into the slammer. And believe me, there's more than enough anal excitement at Seoul National University.

Of course, I have the Maryland laws memorized, along with those of New York, Delaware, New Hampshire, California, Puerto Rico ... well, pretty much every state. I have "ho's", as they say, in several area codes ... as well as ZIP codes and country codes.

So she was 14. Big deal! She was one year away from 15, and that's right before 16. So what if I'm 21. Subtract 3 and we're both underage, making it technically legal. Hell, I look like I'm still in middle school anyway. (So did she.)

She had pubic hair, and by Eminem standards that's fair game. Also fair game in my book: High school parties, chaperoned dates (as long as the mom is hot), and hitting on little girls at the zoo.

They're going to have to come to terms with sex at some point in their lives, so I might as well be the one to introduce them to it. Hell, I'm an expert. I could charge money for my services, but I'm giving them the privilege of access to my loins -- for free.

Just don't tell her parents, OK? They'll kill me.

Dear Air Hostesses,

if you see this and you are an air hostess that works for an Asian airline, please submit your name, picture and your work schedule for this Christmas holiday season. I must make my decision as to what plane to take to the States from Seoul, and I always make it a point to try to renew my membership in the mile-high club while I am paying the exorbitant airfare, even with the reduction I receive for the adopted infant I am ferrying along with me.

Ooooh, I'm so cosmopolitan

Hi, my name is Sang O.

"O," kind of like O Magazine, or Cosmo, or one of those one-letter publications that haughty, trendy Upper West Side slicksters like me read regularly.

Pardon me madam, do you need a light? Certainly, let me pull out my finely polished Zippo and discreetly ignite your clove cigarette. If I may, allow me to feel your cashmere sweater. Thank you. Your highlights certainly bring out the whites of your eyes. It's stunning. Have you been on the Great White Way recently? I was really disappointed with the latest Rodgers & Hammerstein bit. They've really lost their edge recently. What do you think?

Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you on your walk down 54th Street? It can be dangerous at night -- oh. Good night, then. I suppose I'll just keep myself amused by reading these New Yorker cartoons. Oh, New Yorker! Your cogent fusion of art and politics never ceases to be insightful!

My, it's getting chilly outside. I'll just put on my corduroy jacket. I'm so glad I wore my long johns tonight. I noticed that The New York Times listed them in this year's "Hot" column. Yech, my nose is running -- but the neatly folded kerchief in my pocket is not suitable for bodily fluids. I'll just play off the schnozz as a fashion statement.

Man, I really need an iPod.

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