Every once in a while, I’ll stop out of the blue and think, “Wow, ROKon Magazine is a bonkers story.” I’ve written a document about all that bullshit — Somehow — but I still, to this day, have a lingering hope that someone ELSE will see what a great story it is and want to do something with it.
But, as it stands, I just am going to use what happened to inspire me in my own art. And, yet, wow, just wow. The crazy things that happened from late 2006 to early 2008 in Seoul with me and the late Annie Shapiro at the center of it all — wow!
I’ve reached the age where even if somehow, miraculously, I fell into some money, the context would be so different as to make any dreams I had simply not obtainable.
I don’t expect to fall into any money anytime soon — I’m extremely poor — but I do mull sometimes what I would do if I had a little extra money to use. I probably would just go to Asia for two weeks, come home, and figure out what to do next with my life. But even that is debatable, given that I’m bonkers.
But there’s a chance I would go to New York City or LA for just a little stay to at least look around. LA, in particular, I think, would be a place that — if I was 20 or more years younger — I would thrive. But, I’m not. And I’m bonkers. (I don’t handle stress well.)
Yet one thing that is pretty safe if I do fall into some money before I drop dead is buying some high-end photographic equipment. I would want to prove to myself that I could do it. I’m a REALLY GOOD photographer and if I had the equipment, I think I could at least take one or two memorable photos.
And, yet, lulz. I think, barring the Singularity happening and I suddenly getting a significant life extension, that this is it. I’m just going to drift into oblivion and the only thing of note I will have done with my life is a being a DJ in Seoul and starting a long-forgotten, failed monthly magazine for expats in South Korea.
The crux of the issue whenever I think about Seoul is it’s obviously my youth, not Seoul itself that I miss. And I’ve Romanized my time in Seoul to such an absurd degree that I know if I ever return it will be a huge let down.
Hell, it was a huge let down the last time I was there.
But a part of me wants to return just to touch base with the place before I drop dead. Though, obviously, if, say, the DPRK collapses and there’s a sudden surge in demand for English teachers there….who knows, I might somehow, magically, find myself there?
And, yet, I have to accept some basic things — even if I suddenly become “famous” and “successful” enough to go back to South Korea some sort of conquering hero — that is not going to change how fucking old I am. I’m just a very, very different person than I was in late 2006 – early 2008.
If you want to read about what the fuck happened, here it is:
The key thing is even if I magically got the money to go back to South Korea — and Asia in general — at some point in the future, I wouldn’t get what I really wanted: my youth back. I would be returning to Asia a far older and far wiser person and the entire context of whatever happened would be very different.
Most everyone I remember from my time in Asia would have drifted off to a different country and the South Koreans MIGHT remember me, but I’m not so sure they would actually want to hang out with me.
I only bring this up because I keep having these long, extended dreams where I’m back in Seoul. It’s really wild. Or, I find myself daydreaming for way too long about what might happen if I ever do return.
I don’t know. This is all very speculative. I just don’t think I’m going to have the money to go back to Asia for a long, long time — probably years. And, like I said, it just won’t be the same.
I have no plans to return to Seoul anytime soon. In fact, the way things are going, I could be in my mid to late 50s before I have anywhere near the funds to do such a thing. And, even if it did happen today — I’ve waited too long.
It just won’t be as much fun.
I’m too old.
And, yet, there is a little part of me that still wants to return to Asia again just to see how my old stomping grounds are doing. I would like to see Nori Bar and Haebangchon and Itaewon again.
But I know that given how fast things move in South Korea that everything would be different in the extreme, to the point that it would all be a lulz and a huge fucking letdown.
The fact that I’m just too old to enjoy any return trek to Asia weighs heavily on my mind. It’s one of those things you just don’t really think about — that there are things you have access to in your 30s that you don’t when you’re in your 50s.
I don’t really believe in New Age bullshit, but sometimes I do find myself having a curious sensation — that someone, somewhere in South Korea (or connected to it) is thinking about me really hard.
Me, (right) in South Korea around 2004.
I know this is fantastical, but in the past, at least, around the time I have such feelings, someone will swoop in and look at this blog. It hasn’t happened — yet — but someone did download “Somehow” my 30,000 word screed about the crazy days and nights I “enjoyed” between 2006 and 2008 in connection to ROKon Magazine, Nori Bar and the late Annie Shapiro.
I dunno. I just don’t know what to tell you, folks. It’s probably nothing. It’s been about 13 years since I was in South Korea and there’s no reason to believe anyone in South Korea — even a Korean — thinks about me at all these days.
But it is all very….spooky. It does, yet again, make me want to return to South Korea (and Asia in general) one last time to see what’s up. I know South Korea well enough to know that there’s a 50 / 50 chance that if I went back to Seoul anytime soon I’d find myself with a job at Samsung training an AI.
ROKon Magazine started in late summer 2006 when I met the now-late Annie Shapiro. The whole saga / drama lasted until about 2008, if I recall correctly. If you want to read the whole messy booze-fueled drama from my POV, here it is:
The story is pretty damn interesting, if I do say so myself. But it was all a long, long time ago — nearly 20 years now, and there’s really no reason for anyone, even me, to be interested in it anymore.
I mean, I daydream about someone like Phoebe Waller-Bridge wanting to write a screenplay based on the story, but, lulz, that’s just a daydream. And I do draw upon what happened back then a GREAT DEAL for the novel I’m writing. But I just find it very curious that anyone — ANYONE — would be interested in ROKon Magazine.
And now that I’m on the cusp of querying, I wonder if white liberal women literary agents doing due diligence on me are going to be really into all my bad behavior back then. All I can say is — I’m sorry. It was a long time ago and I’ve grown so much as person relative to what happened back then that it’s like I’ve had a brain transplant.
Otherwise, you’ll just have to accept me for who I am.
What happened with ROKon Magazine was so long ago that not even I, the keeper of its memory, care anymore other than drawing upon its legacy to write a novel. I know how great a story it is and what could be done with it under the right conditions, but, lulz, absolutely no one else will care or listen to me.
The late Annie Shapiro and me back in our ROKon Magazine days when I was still cute.
But today, out of the blue, someone came to this site through Instagram and made a beeline to what they could find about ROKon Magazine. I am WELL AWARE of how one could perceive my obsession with my Webstats as…creepy…but…lulz, my life is so devoid of anything interesting these days, please give me this one thing.
Here’s what I think happened — someone got wind of me and ROKon Magazine and did a search for me. My Instagram account was the first link they found, then they went from there to this site. Why anyone would give a shit about ROKon Magazine at this point without me prompting them is…intriguing.
My favorite cover of ROKon Magazine.
I am working with some people on a new online literary zine, so maybe someone was curious about me through that? But how they would know about ROKon Magazine specifically if that was the case is a mystery.
But I find the whole thing — while intriguing — a lulz. I’m so old at this point that I only keep breathing out of spite. Sigh.
Every time someone who clearly knows me from my time in Asia looks at my LinkedIn profile I don’t quite know what to do. I am who I am. I try to be the best person I can be.
What’s more, I’ve changed a great deal from who I was in Asia. It’s like I’ve had a brain transplant. I now have a great deal of humility that I did not have back in the day. I look at old pictures of myself and there’s definitely a Before ROKon Magazine and an After ROKon Magazine element to my appearance.
I was a very….colorful…person during my time in Asia. There’s something unnerving about people who knew me way back when — now almost 20 years ago! — still being interested enough in me to look me up on LinkedIn.
All they learn is I haven’t done much with my life since I left Asia. In fact, the only thing of note that I’ve done is work on a novel for years and years. But, at the moment at least, I’m pretty (outwardly) a loser.
No one believes in me, but me. I still believe that I have at least one more hattrick in me. I really believe this novel has a lot of potential. I really believe — in fact I know in my heart — that I am going to sell this novel and it will have some measure of success.
The potency of The New York Times comes from how many people believe in it. And, in its own way, that’s what made Gawker Media so potent at one point — it was easy to believe in it. Until it wasn’t because it was icky.
I have a tendency to draw attention to myself.
But I do believe that there is a market — and audience — for a media outlet that leans into the spirit of the old Gawker’s early days when it was a fun, snarky blog that rallied the troops every day with its call for droll common sense.
Of course, the obvious venue for this would be a podcasting network of some sort. And, yet, I think even podcasting is so mature these days that, lulz, why are we even talking about this.
This all makes me think about how if I somehow magically lived in New York City that I would start an old fashion zine that covered whatever borough I lived in. I really enjoy zines — obviously — and if I did a good enough job with the zine, I think people of note would take interest in it.
Put me in, coach.
Of course I would hand the thing out in person in front of offices of The New York Times in an effort to catch media attention for it. Even though I’m old as hell, if I was living in either NYC or LA for any duration of time, I could still draw a lot of attention to myself just by…being myself.
And, yet, lulz.
Anyway, there definitely seems to be something of a vacuum in modern media at the moment. Or maybe everything is so scattered and defuse at this point that since there’s no “center” anymore that it’s just not possible for there to be an alternative to it.
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