I. In Argentina, where it all started, the green handkerchief can be found everywhere these days; tied to the necks and the wrists of women and men, as part of their hairstyle, hanging from purses, bags and backpacks, on bikes, cars, strollers, and even tied to pets and around trees. It is also painted on
It was perhaps the universality of themes and experiences in Parasite that resonated with audiences of many languages and cultures, leading the film to win the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and Best Picture at the Academy Awards. That Parasite would win the Palme d’Or was an expectation of many. The Oscar, however, was unprecedented and therefore unexpected, at least in the beginning.
And indeed, I have noticed a biological metamorphosis; change my class to Reptilia, my superorder to Lepidosauria and so forth because washing has made my hands so damn dry. You become a reptile and the numbers start sounding reasonable and holy and something to worship. By the next day they mean nothing and we praise anew.
These actions mark a critical and pivotal moment in the story of Western democracy, specifically in the interconnected world of the 21st century. Never before has my generation—a generation that has grown up in the so-called globalized world of “time and space compression” in which everything has become within our grasp—faced a situation where our individual liberties were curtailed for the good of the many.
I walked in on the dog in my room staring at himself in the mirror. His nose was right on the surface and he was just staring and doing nothing else. When he heard me come in the room, he looked around, appeared to be embarrassed, as did I.
Lecce is a walled baroque city in the bootheel of Italy. I’ve decided to stay here alone for three weeks of break before returning to school. My travels and daily ambulation are for the high purpose of reading, writing, and drawing all that is around and within me, which, if I meditate enough, will be nothing. I write to stop writing.
What I can remember, however, every morning, is a dream. Not merely a memory of a memory hiding in the recess of a bad night’s sleep. I remember every detail. The color of the curtains in the room, the number of flowers in the vase, the dialogue, what I’m wearing, who I am. I can recall a maximum of three dreams from the previous night, but I average around two. But just like you probably have no idea what you ate for dinner a week ago, eventually the dream falls away. I make a point of remembering the ones I want to remember and I let the rest go. People always tell me to write them down. I’ve protested this practice. A dream is ineffable, not simply language, it isn’t just a story…
After the release of Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, there was a buzz around one rather unexpected scene. There is one scene in the film where a dish called Jjapaguri is prepared. The scene itself is humorous while carrying an underlying satirical tone, but the Korean audience swarmed around this scene to offer a different kind of interpretation. Although this interpretation may have been unexpected for the film’s international audience, it came very naturally for its Korean audience: mukbang.