message for mr roh

"LiNK is amassing a giant collection of "messages to the president" which we shall put on a banner to be delivered to South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun to show him that the people of Korea and the world are watching how he deals with the North Korean human rights crisis.

Here's how it works:
1) write a message to President Roh about North Korea on a piece of paper. Write in Korean, English, Chinese, Swahili...the language doesn't matter, it's the message!
2) Take a picture of you holding the message. You can cover your eyes, mouth, or even your whole face, whatever you prefer.


3) Send the picture to korea@linkglobal.org
4) Pat yourself on the back for making a difference."

LiNK stands for: Liberty in North Korea, and more information on them can be found here.
For the record, President Roh has a pretty miserable record of directly addressing human rights abuses of the Korean citizens living north of the DMZ.

the kids

A South Korean newscast on the hidden children outside of the city in North Korea.

remnants of communism II

dangly earrings lady

A late evening-ish stop off at the local Safeway's usually supported my habit for last-minute dinner purchases.

Having visited the frozen-foods section twice in as many minutes with no final decision, I instead settle and opt for the less palatable but more financially appealing option in the asian instant noodles section.
Considering my newfound momentary micro-financial muscle (okay, that's last of the alliteration, I promise), I change direction and head for the pastries section inconveniently located at the opposite end of the store.

I am joined in my browsing and perusal of the sickly sweet deep-fried breaded products more commonly referred to in Canada as "breakfast" by an atypical Canadian Housewife (my presumption) distinguishable in the fact that I can recollect no distinguishing features upon her except for the fact that she happened to be wearing really, really dangly earrings - the sort that you can imagine spent the previous generation hanging out in a dusty box somewhere in Value Village.
Or perhaps even living between the cushions of the second-hand couch that serves the staff in the back room at Value Village, and, if by stopping by long enough you would detect the confusing yet pronounced odour of ferrit pee on.
But, no matter, they were dangly.

My body language can barely contain it's indifference as together our eyes scan and evaluate five, six, seven perspex cases looking to locate a tasty apres-din-dins treaty-treat. (what am I on?!)

Finally, I make my decision and reach in to remove the little blighter: essentially a deep-fried croissant dipped in sugar.

"Ooo, they're good those are. Mmmmm, really good."

"Yeah."

"Yeah" is, of all the words in the English Language, the only confabulation that successfully escapes the clutches of my vocal chords.
Mostly I am surprised that dangly earrings lady had managed to penetrate my usually imperceptible late-night body language.

A short silence ensues in which I attempt to disguise the fact that I am a little panicked and really, I was not relaxed and therefore not ready to engage in friendly chitty-chat.

Dangly earrings lady reaches in.

"Don't eat too many of them." I blurt out.

Another short silence embarks.

There is no response from dangly earrings lady.

Aaahhhh, crrrraaaapppppp.

remnants of communism

Pyongyang, Korea.

an east end tribute

The FA Cup Final
Saturday, 13th May 2006
Cardiff Millenium Stadium

(Considering we 've yet to win anything in my lifetime...)

We're forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high
They nearly reach the sky
But like Liverpool
They fade and die
Fortunes always hiding
I've looked everywhere
We're forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air

UNITED
UNITED
UNITED

COME ON WEST HAM

red, red, red, orange

I couldn't believe it.
They were chirping a medley of Beatles hits. In English.
I've often wondered what the girl on the end was thinking about.
Perhaps she was more of a "Rolling Stones" girl.

the hyatt

The skies darkened. The sun slipped away.
In Stanley Park the trees shook, bent-double.
As I stood opposite and gazed upwards, I could've sworn that it rocked gently, swaying to and fro.

the city

The city cradles it's inhabitants.
It bears them, rears them and puts them up.
Some cities are better parents than others.
If you look hard enough, you will discover the mark of The Almighty.
Personality, Sovereignty & Majesty.
I love the city.