On Dogs, Construction Concerts, and the Nature of Reality

Hello, readers.

Today may well find me at a sort of May-Day squat-in celebratory concert in which 51 bands will play at a construction development.

Here's some information. It's in Korean, but you'll get the gist.

I do not know what it will actually be like, but a friend has said I must go, and when people tell me I must go to concerts, I very often say yes. On a related note, when people tell me I must jump out of airplanes, or believe in any sort of objective reality, I very often say no, thank you, I'm good, thanks.

Usually these aren't the same people. The airplane and reality people.

Speaking of reality, today one of my Korean co-teachers, Fesbl, in fact, asked me if I thought dogs could understand human speech.

"My dog is bilingual," he said. "I taught him to sit and stay and roll over in Korean and English. Sometimes when I say other things to him, he looks like he understands me."

"Maybe he does," I said. "Sometimes when people speak Korean, I don't know what it means, but I understand, like what happened just before."

We were having this conversation at a Charlie Brown cafe. Above my co-teacher was a giant picture of Snoopy. In front of him, on the tray, was his chesnut latte on which there was not the design of a leaf or heart, but of Lucy. Beside him, was another teacher--one of tennis.

What happened just before was this: After Fesbl took a drink, and a bit of Lucy went away, the teacher beside him pointed at the cup, made some sounds, and began laughing. He said something along the lines of "You're going to drink that poor's girl face up."

It didn't matter that the words didn't mean anything. I understood.

"So, maybe dogs are like that," I said.

"Maybe," Fesbl said, and proceeded to drink Lucy away.

Poor Lucy.


ttfn.