Among all the crappy things South Korean journalism practices, fictional first person is the worst. Yes, you read it right: it’s in the first person and it’s fictional since you are writing as a guy who you are not.
Why? Somehow the curmudgeons of journalism seem to think it would be far easier for the audience to understand what’s going on when it’s written in the first person. There is even a piece about continuing test failure of an anti-submarine rocket (ASROC) in the first person, um… no, in the first rocket. ((“I was born to kill enemy submarines… but I feel dizzy when I get into the water…” I’m not kidding here.))
Anyway, take a look at this one:
30 years old. Now I can sing South Korean song Around My Thirties. As an avid smoker, “like exhaled smoke…” is my favorite part of the song. I chain-smoked in the lifts of Masikryong ski resort few days ago. Because of my uncle Jang Song Thaek. He was a thorn in the side ever since I was a heir in training, scamping over and showing disapproval of me. He appeared in my dream pleading that the execution was too much so I hadn’t much sleep recently. My aunt Kyung Hee who in her youth loved him to death. Her being widowed in the twilight years because of a young nephew and her seclusion are also burdensome.
Of course the shock therapy worked quite well. Old guards who inwardly looked down on me are now seem to be now in their senses. It’s natural since they witnessed Jang dragged away with his waist bent and met a miserable end. No one talks back to me now—just busy writing down my words with their head kept down. Rule of terror has made my ground much firmer, it seems.
I still don’t know what I did was right however. What’s for sure is, my father told me to handle Jang properly if I want to rule well. Let him enjoy while it lasts but kick in the ass hard if he walks all over me. He also told me to ignore my aunt if I had to. I wonder what he would think of my decision to execute my uncle and for what my father would be speaking ill of me with him. I’m also worried if my grandfather Kim Il Sung would rebuke me.
Under a disturbed atmosphere, the new year looms. Three years since my rein. Seoul and western media at first made light of me as a “immature, young leader.” But after knowing that I have a beautiful wife Ri Sol Ju and am a father of two daughters they have been treating me as an adult. Some of them even talk of me as a “tough” boy. I feel relieved a bit.
I’ve gotta lift up the mood this year. Firstly I hinted “improving North-South relation” in my new year’s statement. Secretary Kim Yang Gon told me that the South seems to be expecting more. For now a success. But I have to be cautious. Don’t make mistakes of last year’s April. I thought President Park would be pleading to open Kaesong Industrial Complex, pushed by residing corporations and public opinion, after I closed the door of Kaesong. On the contrary, it gave me a headache after Park took a strict posture. Even a seasoned negotiator Kim Yang Gon makes mistakes. I should have known why my father never touched Kaesong.
It could be compromising to offer talks right after continuous flak. Thinking of family reunion event which I shelved last year’s Chuseok. All I need to do is repacking it as a new year’s day event. I wonder what Park would think and do. I think I have to dig out the 2005 dialogue between my father and her. And I wonder what accompanied Jang did say.
Above monologue that I translated is written by Lee Young-jong, senior Joongang reporter earlier this year, under the title New Year’s Monologue of Kim Jong Un. He wrote many pieces about North Korea and some of them were quoted by western media, including this one about KJU’s money man defecting.
Sometimes a writing tells more about the author himself than about which the author is trying to tell us.
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