Sourly the potato won’t hop across to Moscow to celebrate today’s Victory Parade — those Russians are so naughty (mustn’t offend the peace-loving Yankees).
70 years ago I was 6 years old and at a street party like this ( though here it is in north rather than southeast London ).
The echoes of von Braun’s last V2 rocket to hit the city six weeks previously had faded and he had another six months to wait safely and comfortably in Germany before entering the American Dream. The war in Europe was over: the Japanese surrendered after four more months; then five years later the Korean War began.
Insomnia gave me some early hours today to realise how little I know about Korea since the Japanese occupation early last century. Mixed memories of phrases and images: the 38th parallel, the Inchon landings, Pusan, M.A.S.H., the Yalu River, Pork Chop Hill, Bill Speakman V.C., the “Glorious Gloucesters”, the DMZ, Panmunjom, Hyundai, Samsung, Daewoo, the Kims. K.J.Noh’s pieces in Counterpunch started a few hares.
Echoes of Terror
Oliver Stone at Jeju
Republic of Torture
Isang Yun: Piri for Solo Oboe (or clarinet)