Botulism
Really Corrupt
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- Jun 19, 2023
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The Entries of 'Kim Han-Ryol'
C8-i4.PATROL-36
PHYSICAL INFORMATION | MENTAL INFORMATION |
|---|---|
BIRTH/DEATH SEPTEMBER 12, 1974, PYONGYANG, DPRK (45 YEARS AGO) MAY 28, 2020, CITY 8, OCCUPIED JAPAN (0 YEARS AGO) | RELIGION METHODIST CHRISTIAN / ATHEISTIC |
HEIGHT AND WEIGHT 179.25cm, 82.5kg | MENTAL ILLNESSES ILLEGAL |
DETAILS No tattoos, a scar under his right eye, and a thick beard | MARITAL STATUS THE LOVE OF THE SUPREME LEADER IS ETERNAL |
My father holds my hand, shielding me with his umbrella from the pouring rain. The party permits but never forgets. His ushanka hat is drenched in the downfall.
I was only ten years old.
A permit to use a phone has been written. Father is of good honor within the regime, President Kim Il-Sung smiles upon him.
My old man smiles as he dials the rotary. An Officer watches but money sends him away.
"Cheng Xiaolou! Kim, from the trenches!" He says. Two war veterans exchange stories. New wives, new lives, nothing like old times.
"My boy, come here!" Placing my ear against the telephone. I was only ten years old. "Uncle Xiaolou will talk to you."
"Little Kim, how are you faring? Has this old fool taken you hunting yet?"
"Hunting?" There was nothing to hunt, I wasn't allowed to touch a gun. I lived in the city. I was not free to roam.
I was only ten years old.
"Hunting! We have a great expanse not far from my village. We take shotguns and we hunt. Do you not do that?"
Silence, like a boot kicking the wire. The phone line is cut off.
"Time is up. Your permit has been rescinded. You must stay, your son must leave the Party Headquarters at once."
"But this is the first time my boy has heard my greatest foreign friend! I-"
Another stomp. A boot hits the ground.
I walk home alone in the night rain.
I was only ten years old.
Photograph of me, taken June 16 1991.
Tashkent, Uzbek SSR, Soviet Union
A trip of the elite. The Pioneers of Korea swim in the oases of their decadent little camp. Teachers run to and fro', teaching of the Leaders' greatness.
I was lonely. I had yet to make a friend in life. I did not know it, but I desired you like none other.
Teachers blow their whistles, but my heart follows a different beat. I stray, and I am lost in the bazaar.
Around that moment was when I saw you.
Prince of my mind, prince of my heart!
Like King Sukjong's cat, I lay in the clouds of Heaven within your embrace.
You take me to the Blue Mosque, to the tombs and to the Shah-I-Zunda,
You could've taken me to Bamiyan and to Baghdad for all I cared -- I was immersed within your world and for a moment I became you.
I felt bearded, I felt like a man, and I was in love with my equal from another land.
Your father marches up to Heaven knife in hand, ending our facade
We flee to the desert, my only sanctuary. You kept me safe, you saved my life, but not my face.
The next day Uzbekistan declared independence; I saw you dancing in the parade.
The pioneers cling to their red banner, and I followed the whistle with unfortunate embrace.
I would never see you again.
I was seventeen years old.
I love you!
Taken March 3rd, 2002. Pyongyang, North Korea
The end of my days as a Conscript.
From desert desire to frigid famine,
Their deaths were no different. She died with a chain around her neck, he died tied to the firing post.
We slayed, flayed, bandited, stole, starved, ate and hunted for ten long years. Because of our weapons, we were gifted impunity.
Even with the Portal Storms, our activities did not cease. They only grew.
From soldier to State Security Minister, I continued my craft.
The Men of God gagged, the smugglers shot, and escapees exterminated...
From Puk'chang Death Camp the refugees followed,
Tattered, starved prisoners. At the very end of the road, soldiers wait.
Turning them into citizens of the Empire.
A name stolen, a death untold. What justice on Earth is there?
The wolf dies, breathing its' last. The fur will serve me well.
As I gather up the courage to turn myself in
The men know not the depths I've delved
Or my long list of sins.
A new chance to fight,
A new chance to live,
A new chance to kill.
A new chance to die.
J
I think I'm in love with you, witch of the never-setting sun.
You don't honestly know who I am, but that's okay.
Whatever will keep your company.
I was unlucky in death,
Maybe I'll be lucky in love.
N
A passing fancy from a distance.
I want to know more, so much more.
YEFIM
A stereotypical Russian to most,
To me? A reminder of old times past.
When I look at you, I see the Russian Militsiya Officer on V.I Lenin Street,
Or the bar-owner in Bukhara
You serve both practical and nostalgic uses, and I consider you a friend.
To this? We drink.
Thank you.
BAEK
My Korean blood-brother.
I enjoy you as a person, a man of honor, and as a son I never had.
You know me as Chollima, I will probably die without you ever knowing who I really am.
And that's okay. My name isn't Chollima, my name isn't even Kim Han-Ryol.
But whatever type of person you are, good or bad...I will save you when the time comes.
DONGJI
A comrade from another continent.
I thought I hated you, I wanted to kill you at first,
I had plans on it.
But you sincerely impress me and
I view you as one of the few true players
In a game of fools.
THE YOUNG ONE
A young Japanese Officer with an intense impetus
In the field and in the streets
I'd trust him with my life
A Barracuda in both size and ferocity.
THE AFRIKANER
Keep it, I don't want your money.
Your desires are the gift that keeps on giving.
"A Capitalist in our village!" She said,
As my cadre and I dragged him to his backyard,
A single shot echoing through the hills.
We left him there, as we always did.
A moment of life to bring me back to this day.
THE LIEUTENANT
Slavery.
The emaciated woman trembles under the sixty-pound pack.
South Pyongan rain greets her march.
This is the end. This is the house that God built.
A roar from her captor, Kalashnikov aimed.
"Is this the life that was in store for me?"
"Where is my dress? Where is my love?
My comb, my food, my warmth, my shoes?"
You wander through life with ease and arrogance,
Like an entitled peacock or haughty sow
And yet God gave you all those things.
THE BUSINESSMAN
I worked at a bar a long time ago, I was sixteen years old.
I served the elite of Pyongyang -- Generals, party members...
Kim Jong-Il himself visited our place once, before the Arduous March.
Now imagine them if I asked of them one-million Won.
I do not protect you from others. I protect you from myself.
To fund my rise or power or disappear, your choices have been made.
LA DAMA
Flashy, reckless, too close to the sun. The actress descends from her stage.
"To love another man..." She thought. The Son of the President would never find out.
I was there. Six-thousand others were. She was shot like a dog in the killing grounds.
To be there when the curtain falls...
You are married to the Empire, and you have an affair with greed.
It will be the end of you, mark my words.
Your apparel did fetch me a fine price on the black market, though. Keep it coming.
THE LOCAL OFFICERS
You're all idiots.
You get high, drunk, and laugh, but without any work to show for your excellence.
You possess incompetence but possess none of the passion an incompetent has in life.
You're a dead end and in due time you'll join forces with the transfers to stop me.
And I can't fucking wait for when that day comes.
To Hell with you, Japanese dogs.
LOYALISTS
Mobile piggybanks.
You're all boring and power-hungry, but you're not boars or bears; you're snakes.
You attack by night rather than by day, by words rather than by a gun.
When I extort you, I do not feel a shred of sympathy.
THE TRANSFERS
Rule-following pussies.
You genuinely seem to worship the Combine. You're all ignorant as you are ineffective.
Cannon-fodder. But some of you are reliable, and I admire you for that.
THE HEICHOS AND THE TAICHOS (LOCAL/TRANSFERS)
Power-hungry, with no skill to show for it.
The Heichos are incompetent and destructive.
The Taichos? Lazy and uninterested.
The Oyabun? Fair, unlike his dogs.
As it stands now, you're just bodies that stand in the way of perfection.
THE COMBINE EMPIRE
The whole rotten interior will come crashing down.
I fear your power, but I have no love for your rulings.
When the Uprising comes, I shall disappear quietly.
A ghost soldier in your lost brigade.
CRIMINALS & REBELS
I'd never willingly join you, but you're not all bad.
I constantly work with the former, and I hesitantly deal with the latter.
Keeping a few reliable criminals around makes sure the bad apples are weeded out.
But the rule-zealot transfers will never understand that.
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