It turned out she was off for the evening, so I watched a few minutes of George Stephenopolus attempting to put sense to the world. I didn’t get past the first story.
Which is that the leader, dictator, czar – whatever he is, or was – of North Korea has died. The first words out of George’s mouth weren’t that Kim etc. etc. had died, which I already knew, but that thousands (28,000 was the figure, I believe) of “American troops” stationed in South Korea are now within less than 100 miles of North Korea’s nuclear might.
I have a few questions. First and foremost, why are so many military personnel from this country doing in South Korea? Advising? Consulting? Waiting? Provoking?
That issue was not addressed, or even mentioned. I’m also curious to know if the death of the country’s dictator put the troops closer to the arsenal that waits across the border separating north from south than they were before his death. When he died over the weekend, was the launching equipment moved, or did the troops move, or both, or neither?
This question was partially answered by one of the correspondent’s, who expressed the nervousness over Kim etc. etc.’s successor, who is his youngest son. He’s still in his twenties, so the story goes, so nobody is certain whether or not he’ll feel obligated to prove himself. I guess the next logical step in that uncertainty would be to volley a few nukes toward the concentration of U.S. citizens that is, for some reason, stationed less than 100 miles away. And I suppose we should all be alarmed. And nervous.
The best part, though –and by that I mean the most offensive – was yet to come. In addition to providing many opportunities to hear an sh inserted into the word peninsula, the quick montage of footage used as a setup for the first correspondent’s report would lead you to believe that everyone in North Korea was so devastated by the passing of the leader that speaking coherently and clearly was impossible. Here’s a news anchor, weeping her way through the announcement of his sudden and unexpected passing. Here are thousands of people on the streets, crying, shrieking, mourning in the most public way imaginable. And here’s a woman holding up a newspaper and wailing that she’s not sure how she’s going to endure this loss “because he loved us all so much.”
The correspondent summed it up beautifully. This is a forced display of public grief, she proclaimed in the most openly mocking tone I’ve ever heard on a program that presents itself as the news. I know nothing of the people or culture of North Korea. I think their military march style looks nutty, not to mention overtly hostile and vaguely creepy, which I’d guess is exactly how it’s intended. But at least when they cry in public it’s over a politician, someone who for better or worse actually matters to the country. Back home, of course, we reserve that sort of thing for people like Michael Jackson and Tiger Woods.
