war memorial of korea. yongsan, seoul.
anti-aircraft guns. 
galleries with names carved on black marble.
casualties of the korean war.
from south carolina
the memorial and the dragon hill neighborhood.
—-
north korean high ranking official publicly executed by anti-aircraft gun shot. may 2013.
Foreign Policy: A Story of Paranoia and Gore: Why North Korea Uses Such Brutal Execution Methods
North Korean Famine (Arduous March) 1994-1998.
120 km south of seoul near the middle of the country.
daejeon to sejong city (solar bike path )
unification observatory in goseong-gun county south to gopo village in samcheok by bike (east coast)
busan > follow the nakdong river north> cross the middle of the country on the saejae bicycle road to where the han river begins > ride the hangang up to seoul
four rivers trail system (korea joongang daily)
riverside biking trails in korea (pdf)
seoul bicycle website (in korean)
built in the early 1900s to hold korean nationalists during the japanese occupation of korea. after wwii, the south korean government used the prison until it was shut down in the 1980s. reopened as a museum in the 90s.
high school romance at the prison.
a boy reads a pokemon book, a character created by japanese video game designer satoshi tajiri, in front of a wall of koreans held at the camp during the occupation.
interrogation scenes.
bamboo under the nails torture.
solitary.
angry guard.
an elementary school kid on a field trip chokes a guard mannequin in one the torture chambers.
the former prison lies west of dongnimmun station on the seoul subway line 3.
korea, china, manchuria and the pacific under japanese occupation.
via wikimedia commons.
lotte world tower. jamsil, seoul, november 2013.
seoul. itaewon. december 2011.
the last light of the year of the horse.
every child and teen across korea is bowing to grandparents for tradition and a little extra cash. dat green and yellow money.
we ride a bus to danyang. heavy traffic. what’s supposed to take one hr takes three. our bus gets rammed by another car. just a little dent. just a little reminder of whose year it’s going to be. by night we arrive in danyang.
the next morning we drive up to the snowy top of mount yangbangsan with old paragliding hippies. they’ve got their official ponytails, official disheveled hair and official beer guts. they lounge in the back of our 4×4 like old farm hands. at the top, by the observatory, we gear up and run and jump off and glide across the valley of danyang. i peek at the pine trees on the ridge below as they close in. the trees look like the needles on the back of a great sleeping porcupine and i wonder, in the case of unscheduled landing, if i would be impaled or just safely hang from the tangled parachute silk like in the movies. we clear the ridge to find the river’s big rocky bend under us. to the north rectangular factories with big smoke stacks. we swerve abruptly and then rock side to side for the fun of it. it’s part of the paragliding adventure package im told later. elly is somewhere behind me floating and circling the little town like a colorful vulture. we approach the landing sidewalk. legs out is the only instruction im given throughout the flight. up above me more human dandelion seeds glide and circle silently.
we cross the river for food, spelunking and a joyride.
fried fry
makeoli
gosu cave
mystery man
we boogie up and down the mountains and cliffs in a madmax buggy.
we take a packed train to seoul.
destination: itaewon.
objective: the best pizza this or that side of the dmz.
we enjoy our slices in the company of two obnoxious indian girls.
churros dipped in chocolate.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/130870372@N03/16058767314/in/photostream/
rain +mario.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/130870372@N03/16061150183/in/photostream/
+toad
towering hamburger with glazed donut bun.
coffee at a beatnik-era cafe.
hongdae
pork. lettuce. gochujang. dinner.
beer samples at tomatillo in itaewon.
rain. spaceships in dongdaemun.
how you doin.
Near the flea markets and vintage clothing stores, obviously.
Hipster mafiosos.
Seoul basements.
Street fighting. KSU, Busan.
Beer. Blood. Like a country song with Taekwondo strikes.
Gatos de Puerto
Kid gangs. Seo-gu, Busan.
Loners.
PNU, Busan.
Cat. Seoul, South Korea.
Seoul. Deeper underground.
Down, down, down where Korean Rastafarians had dug caves so they could reggae trance all night. There were dark dens carved on the walls, from where lazy threads of hukka smoke snaked up and hipster eyeglasses twinkled in the rainbow light.
