Vignettes: Part One of Many

Over the weekend, I had a divine dinner at a traditional Korean place (meaning they served savory charcoal-grilled eel that one wraps in mint leaves and garnishes with any of the following: ginger, jalapeno, raw chunks of garlic, sprouts, peppers, dried sardines, curry, soy, chutneys... because everything is communal, a meal for 8 people will result in roughly 45 dishes. And these 45 dishes do not trickle in; the waiters literally deliver the table to you, with all ingredients included (aside from the meat, which arrives in intervals and is consistently hot off the grill).   

Tied with the food for highlight was the backdrop of the meal.  In the near distance, viewed through two layers of barbed wire fence and a few bunkers, was North Korea.  We had driven along a dividing river during our approach, and in those 30 minutes the only sign of life the opposite coast displayed was a single military truck. A few towns with whitewashed walls could be seen, but no smoke from chimneys, no lights, no commerce. Perhaps it was one of the "prop cities" we have read about, ghost towns for saving face and simulating development?  As the psychological track records of the Norwegian Breivik and U.S. school shooters demonstrate, it's the isolated, ultimate losers who are amongst the most dangerous agents, and I oscillated between fear and sorrow while beholding those mountains, a convenient screen for the wilderness lying on the other side.  My colleagues and I resorted to the strategy of those uneasy in the face of the uncontrollable: we made fun. We joked how our barbecue smoke must be wafting across the river and tantalizing the starving peasants; we imagined that lone truck as being a cardboard cut out with 4 fast runners propping it up. The laughter was a little too hard. 

((For an astonishing essay on the motives and rational of "ultimate losers," an article from a German column Der Spiegel:  http://www.signandsight.com/features/493.html  ))