I just saw the documentary "American Hardcore" tonight at the Seoul film fest, it was ok. Lots of familiar old music and some cool (if expectedly rough) old footage from shows, a snapsnot of that moment. As a film or a historical narrative it is just ok, it lacks a real center or real sense of purpose, and the interviews could have been better executed and presented, and more diverse. Not enough differentiation between the good stuff and the shit, of which there was plenty even if the spirit was good. The Midwest is definitely ignored more or less. To me that skipped a lot of the point --there especially could and should have been more of an exploration of the politics, and also the world that hardcore created, what the tours were like, the nationwide network or community or whatever, more on the DIY thing. The mindset. The conceit of the film is that this specific moment was just so cool that it ended and what came later was something else. A bit too neat, but whatever.

But it felt pretty good to see. It reminds you what the whole draw was in the first place.

There were some (6 or 7) American punkers at the film, kids now teaching English here. I spoke to them for a brief bit, but of course rapidly got the vibe that they just thought I was some old fuck. I wanted to say something like "hey I was listening to this shit when you were a little baby" but then realized that would really make me look like an old fuck, and wouldn't have proven much of anything except that everybody gets old and it doesn't matter anyway.

I have been thinking about being alienated from thing, so watching the movie was enjoyable in that way.

You know, all the books about living abroad comment on "culture shock" and on the inevitable sense of alienation one feels, blah blah blah.

But what if you are largely alienated from the society you are from and have been since you can remember? What then?

Sure, sure, this is a radically different culture from my own. But I honestly can't say that I feel any more alienated from the Koreans surrounding me than I do at home almost all of the time. It is at least equal, and perhaps less so in significant ways, since I don't have a clue here what the people here are saying and therefore do not lose my mind several times a day.


That doesn't mean that I have gone native or feel like I really get things here, because I am sure I don't. The manic and constant obsession with cellphones, for instance, is more excessive than in the US and it still blows my mind. More broadly, the pace and style of central Seoul is so presentist and so overtly materialistic that, in a way it makes sense even though I am sure I don't understand it.

The simple thing is that there is no internal sense that I should feel connected to anyone. That is comforting.