David Kang (left) with Victor Cha, outside USCs Korean Studies Institute.
In an age of partisan politics and one-upmanship, “hawk” Victor Cha and “dove” David Kang—two top Korea experts—have written their own counter-narrative.
by Julie Ha
photographs by Eric Sueyoshi
Could you script a more perfect rivalry?
Victor D. Cha, cast as The Hawk, suspects North Korea wants to be treated like a nuclear weapons state. Juxtaposed with him is David C. Kang, The Dove, who thinks the North is going nuclear because it’s insecure over a U.S. pre-emptive threat. Enter, stage right, Cha, in favor of coercive diplomacy through negotiations and sanctions. He brandishes a stick. From stage left, Kang, who wants to open the isolated nation to capitalism and Western ideas, leads by dangling a carrot.
Figurative analogies aside, Cha and Kang are, in fact, highly positioned players on the real-world foreign policy stage. Formidable opponents with divergent opinions on how the U.S. should respond to North Korea’s nuclear weapons ambition, an issue that has plagued this nation for two decades, each has assumed an important role in government policy formation and scholarly research. Continue Reading »

Little did his parents know that young Randall (left) was already plotting his future life as an artist.
by Randall Park
When I think of the word artist, I think of Vincent Van Gogh seizing a blank canvas with bold strokes of color. I picture Ludwig Van Beethoven pouncing on the keys of a grand piano. I envision 50 Cent rapping about guns while holding a really big gun. Yes, I see the
masters at their craft, doing what they do best.
Despite the fact that I’m a talented actor, writer, rapper and hair stylist, the title “artist” was one that I could never wholeheartedly embrace. It felt too presumptuous, too pretentious. I was not worthy. But at a certain point, I had to look myself in the mirror, take a deep breath, swoon at the rugged exterior, re-focus and make the declaration: “I AM AN ARTIST.” Then, came the next step—telling my parents. Continue Reading »
How the milky rice wine once relegated to countryside shacks became a superstar cocktail.
story and photograph by Namju Cho
Makgeolli, a milky Korean rice wine once derided as “the peasants’ drink,” has recently skyrocketed to superstardom, complete with premium brands, jellybean-colored makgeolli cocktails and even makgeolli ice-cream served in some fancy restaurants in Seoul.
Why the comeback? It tastes good, is allegedly good for you, and there’s no shortage of savvy marketers touting all its desirable virtues. Koreans have always been obsessed with all things healthy, and alcoholic drinks are no exception. The reason: If you’re going to have a drink, why not go for one that’s packed with fiber, lactic acid and vitamins, not to mention less damaging to your liver? Another appeal is its low alcoholic content of about 6 to 8 percent, compared with 22 percent for soju and about 14 percent for wine.
“The Makgeolli War is On” declared a recent headline in the Daily Ilgan Plus, a Korean-language newspaper, noting the steep competition in the U.S. market, with one brand debuting a 750-ml bottle for 99 cents, compared with about $3.99 for other brands.
It’s hard to believe that the drink relegated to countryside shacks during my college days at Yonsei University has climbed to such heights. In the myriad bars lining the main strip facing our Seoul campus, we usually drank beer, soju or some combination of the two. Makgeolli was the decidedly uncool drink consumed by our grungy rivals at Korea University. Urban legend had it that freshmen there were forced to drink makgeolli from an upper classman’s shoe as part of initiation. Continue Reading »
Bobby Choy (Big Phony), singer
When I was in the fourth grade, my mom took an old burlap rice bag, cut holes out for my head and arms and I went to school as a bag of rice. No one seemed to get it so I threw it out. To this day, I regret not wearing that bag of rice with pride.
My Mega Man (children’s size) costume. Only thing, I was 24 at the time so getting into the costume took a while. I had to really squeeze in. The costume ended up being so damn tight it gave me male camel toe. All of the sudden, while out trick-or-treating with friends—poo attack! I had to take a massive dump. Finally, there was no holding back so I went into some bushes to relieve myself. The problem: My costume was way too tight to quickly take off, and I ended up ripping off the pants. I took a massive poo, wiped my ass with my socks then walked home in my boxers.
Margaret Cho, comedienne
Brigitte Lin from Chungking Express. It’s simple: a blonde wig, trench coat and sunglasses. My other favorite was Björk from Dancer in the Dark.
With an emphasis on quality and authenticity, CYR International, Inc., is bringing the popular Korean dumplings to mainstream America.
Story by Katherine Yungmee Kim
Photographs by Elizabeth Kim
Donning a bouffant cap and white coat, Christian Park looks very much at home in an ultraviolet ray sterilizer. The unit is slightly larger than a telephone booth, and he stands there for several seconds as air—blown through short wavelengths of light—cleanses him from head to toe.