It’s been a while since I’ve tackled a makjang and 8 episodes in this instance seemed doable. In the past (at least since Make a Woman Cry) I’ve avoided them like the plague not just because of the over-the-top family dynamics but also for the ridiculously protracted conflicts that mark these types of stories. South Korean soap operas aren’t just insanity on steroids but the breeding ground for all-too-familiar tropes like revenge, birth secrets, amnesia, mistaken identity, illegitimate offsprings, family members wrestling for supremacy for the family business, forced marriages, imposterism etc etc.
Remember it, Jake: 'Chinatown' turns 50
2024-12-02
Chinatown looks, in the beginning, like it’s going to be about terrible things: Namely, adultery, with a side of garden-variety business corruption.
But as it goes on, the film reveals itself as really about something much worse: The systematic stealing of land and water. And then, in the third act, it becomes about something even worse than that- rape, incest, and (ultimately) the bad guy getting away with all of the above.
The other day I saw a thread saying something like “By now I think we can all agree that doing April Fool’s jokes as a business is really bad and we should never do them”. As is often the way with the internet I saw it, didn’t really think too much about it, and scrolled onwards; then I thought about it some more "(“deeped it”, as the kids would say), scrolled back to try and find it, and couldn’t for the life of me find it again.
Note: Over the summer, I will be highlighting on Substack some of my overlooked and less-read cultural and historical essays and blog posts that deserve a second chance. The essay below first ran on my blog last year to mark the twentieth anniversary of Young Americans.
The high school drama is a staple of modern American television and movies, but the genre’s audience understands that its stories cannot be taken literally.
Today marks the eighth anniversary of Dave Goldberg's sudden passing. I dedicated one of the most important projects in my career, my book Product-Led SEO, to do my part in ensuring that the contribution he made to improve this world is never forgotten.
He was not my direct manager, in fact as the CEO, he wasn’t even my manager’s manager. I wasn’t related to him. I never was invited to his legendary poker games.
It’s Hysteria week so time for a Hysteria retrospective!
It’s August 1987. I’m 16 years old and at Zayre with my Mom shopping for clothes for my senior year of high school. Bored with that I head to the music section and come across something in the new releases section: a new album by Def Leppard!
I grab the cassette and convince my Mom to get it for me as an early birthday present.
TW: Grooming, Suicide
When news (and receipts) of comic artist Ed Piskor’s online chats with a young woman were released last week, it was an immediate problem for me.
I’m a dad. I run a progressive store in a progressive art community. I believe victims. I also believe in redemption, making amends and changing for the better. If that would happen for Ed, it would take time. So I took his X-Men Grand Design poster off the wall at our store and put his autographed copies of Red Room spine-out on lower shelves.
Thirty-four years ago, on March 26, 1990 Elizabeth Mackintosh was found brutally murdered in the lower level of the chapel on the campus of Covenant Theological Seminary. By all accounts, Miss Mackintosh was a delightful, faithful, and joyful member of the CTS Community; she was a superb student and excellent conversation partner. The True Believer podcast has featured numerous interviews with former professors and colleagues of Elizabeth Mackintosh from the Seminary.
A few days ago I heard the sad and shocking news that
had passed away at the young age of 52. If you pay attention to literary social media, you’ve probably seen the news too. He is being mourned widely and deeply. Gabe was a sharp writer and a big-hearted literary booster. Whenever I saw him, he was always overflowing with energy and ideas. He’s going to be sorely missed.