It has certainly been a memorable few days here in Korea. Derek Lande was over and we spent a long weekend doing BP coaching with a bunch of university students. I really enjoyed the few days we did. It was nice to feel that I was doing the type of stuff that I came here to do and the attitude of the students was excellent. I am certainly not an authority on BP or debating in the same class as Derek, but I thought I was a useful asset nevertheless.

Hanging with Derek was also good banter. I caught up on some debating gossip and generally got to chat about how things have been ticking along since I have been away. Derek is usually a proper social butterfly at debating events so having some extended conversations with him was a pleasure.

However, I have also been astonished and appalled in the last few days about the news of WWE wrestler Chris Benoit. Essentially, last weekend the wrestler Chris Benoit murdered his wife and seven year old son, and then hung himself. This came as an incredible shock to me as I have been watching him wrestle, or fake fight if you will for nearly ten years now. (Pro wrestling has been one of my guilty pleasures for a long time.)

In the fake world of professional wrestling, Chris Benoit always portrayed a very gritty and realistic character. He was a genuinely tough guy, who possessed the consummate skill to make even hardened viewers suspend their disbelief and get caught up in the action. Outside of the ring, the impression was that Benoit was a reserved, but classy and dignified family man. Indeed, he was universally respected, if not loved as one of the greatest wrestlers of his generation and a fundamentally sound man. He was famous for a touching moment where he embraced his friend Eddie Guerrero at the superbowl of wrestling, Wrestlemania, where they both finished the event as champions.

That just makes the news all the more shocking and perverse. In an age of 24 hour news, where the graphic nature of the horrors of the human condition are so well covered, we have a tendency to become numb and blot out the tragedy and the horror. If we were to truly comprehend every child murder, every accident, every war, we simply could not get on with things. However, my emotional investment in wrestling has punctured this defensive aura to an extent. I just cannot comprehend what makes a man smother his own seven year old son. Not least a man I have watched for this long.

The US media are playing up the steroid aspect and while steroids certainly amplify aggression, this was clearly an act of blatant psychotic evil, not the same as a gym rat raging about not getting his favorite seat in the sauna. I just wonder how a lot of the wrestlers and employees go on from this. Thinking of Benoit, not as trusted friend and colleague, but as a child murderer.

Regardless, I have not been profoundly upset or anything, but I have been affected by the news at least. Funny old world.

The heavens have opened and they will not be closing for about a month. Yes, it is rain time in Korea and there will not be a day without rain for weeks. On average, 14 inches of rain will come down during July and I do not care who you are, fourteen inches is a lot. It means that I will carrying around my trusty umbrella at all times, as showers will be more frequent than a Jessica Simpson to the plastic surgeon. As I have mentioned before the rain here is nasty acid rain, infected by the massive amounts of pollution being produced by China. Also, I have no doubts that accident rates will go up, as Korean drivers lack the skills of Michael Schumacher at Spa.

Otherwise, Derek has arrived safely and I will be seeing him tomorrow possibly, but if not definitely tomorrow.

I have only been a teacher for about half a year and in fairness it is hardly the most austere of surroundings, however I seemed to have picked up the mannerisms and ticks that all teachers seem to have. For example, one of the students was just writing on a desk with highlighter pen. Now highlighter wipes right off with no problems. This did not stop me asking him in very slowly if he would like it if I came into his home and wrote on his furniture with highlighter, in a slow and domineering. I don't even know why I did it, but it is like years of learned behavior suddenly kicked in. Its such a stupid premise anyway. No, of course no one would like someone to come into their home and write all over their stuff, because people like their stuff, but I honestly could not care less about the asylum's desks. Soon when a students says ok, I'll give it the old: "No it is not ok, not ok at all, humff." I might even start wearing tweed jackets with leather patches on the arm. I am sure Rowners has a spare one he could send over.

My mood though has been cheered by the fact that I am getting the weekend off. Well the time off will enable me to take part in the same workshops Derek is coming over to do. The trick is now to falsely imply that I know what I am talking about. Operation Patricia Hewitt begins.

The answer to my question below is that they are all Scottish. Ah fairly obvious, but not that obvious eh. Well done to Jimmy Doyle for being the first person to get the answer right. (He answered via my facebook page.) Their all being Scottish is actually quite noteworthy, when you consider that during the Advocat years the idea of a Scottish eleven was inconceivable. I actually think Rangers are on the right track now. Trying to maximise the youth set up at the club, not spending lavishly and making sure there is a strong Scottish backbone to the side. All in all, when I see Celtic connected to multi million pound signings for Italian rejects, it makes me feel quietly confident about next season.

It is the hottest it has been since I arrived in Korea today. It is 31c, which is well bloody hot. It makes me grateful for the fact that I actually handle the heat improbably well. Considering that I have vampiricaly pasty white skin and sport a physique reminscent of a bull walrus without the tusks I actually do ok. By all rights I should be sweating like Lord Levy walking past the Houses of Parliaments, but I am not suffering too badly. I suppose after family holidays in Disneyworld, where time is spent running away from over sized squeaky rodents due to the effects of sunstroke i can handle anything.

In other news, the man, the myth, the legend, the Lande is coming to Korea. Yes, UCC's finest, Mr Derek Lande will be in Korea for about four days. He is coming over to do some workshops at a university here. Usually, I would try and fire some pithy putdown in Derek's direction, but I am actually too excited to do so. It will be lovely to see someone from home, even if it is Derek. (Oh there it is, could not help myself.) But, I actually very much look forward to seeing the blue shirt and tan chinos soon. That, and he says he will bring me some excellent Irish chocolate. Ba da bing

McGregor, Smith, Weir, Broadfoot, Hutton, Adam, Thomson, Ferguson, Burke, Gow, Boyd. A possible starting eleven for Rangers next year. Anyone who can guess the feature they all share will get a free pint from me when I next see them? Clue for the Celtic fans, they are all crap is not the answer.

It is another really lovely day in Seoul. A clear blue sky and lots of sun. I have a bit of a hangover and I would quite like to have used the suns rejuvenating rays to recharge my batteries in the same manner as superman. The problem is that it is quite difficult to find a suitable locale for a spot of sunbathing. I stay in an apartment so its not like I have a back garden or anything and very annoyingly the access to the roof seems to be locked. There is a little sort of playpark next to my building and in theory I could go and lie out there. However, I do not think my conscience could let me do that. Life is tough enough for Korean children without the sight of my pasty flesh when they are just trying to play on the swings. Also, things could get even messier. An old Korean woman might get confused and try and contact Greenpeace to come and debeach me. I really don't need some hemp wearing hippies blocking out my rays.

I went out last night and I had a very good night. Mostly because I heard those words that I have been dying to hear: “Wow, I love your accent.” During my tour in the United States my dulcent tones proved to be money in the bank. However, here my accent has mostly provoked a mixture of confusion and derision. Yet, last night, after a few shots some American girls were asking me to recite lines from Braveheart. Ba da bing.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/teams/w/west_ham_utd/6751387.stm

Good grief. Seventeen million quid strikes me as a hell of a lot of money for Darren Bent. Yes, he is a talented young player certainly, fast and strong, and with a good goalscoring record at the highest level. However, it is not as if he is a regular in the England side is he, he is a squad player at best. Also, for that sum of money, I would expect a player who could grace the Champions League with aplomb. Is it only me who cannot see Mr Bent knocking in ten European goals in a season? Nevertheless, he will be well rewarded to the tune of seventy five thousand pounds a week. An astronomical wage for a player of less than astronomical talents.

However, the above example is simply the biggest in what seems to be a summer of bloated transfer spending and speculation. Football is very quickly becoming an inflated bubble again, even as Leeds United plight continues to show the results of what happens when the bubble pops. I see West Brom are looking for six million pounds for Diomansy Kamara. 6M?! For a player who during his Premiership tenure looked like he couldn't trap a bag of cement and had the positional play of someone who received a frontal lobotomy from the club physio. The new TV deal signed has certainly brought in some extra cash, but not enough to justify extravagance like the above. All in all, it means I am quite happy to see Wattie at the Gers showing a bit of frugal restraint. 4.4 million for Scott Brown? Thatsa too spicaya meataball!!

My colleague is leaving for a ten day trip to a big debating tournament in the States., where is chaperoning and coaching two female Korean High School debaters. I am a bit jealous, as he is going to an English speaking country, with Western food a plenty and clothes shops with Westerns sizes. Also, he gets ten days away from the asylum, while I cover his classes.

My jealousy is moderated somewhat by the fact that his destination is Wichita, Kansas. Ahem. Hardly the most glamorous metropolis in the US. Kansas generally does not inspire excitement, Dorothy was so desperate to get out that she dropped a house on a Wicked Witch to get away. Furthermore, twentysomething American debate coach with teenage Korean girls, sounds far too much like a tabloid headline waiting to happen to me.

I went down to Insadong last evening with Phil who was buying gifts for his family. Insadong is a nice little area of Seoul, with cobbled streets and arty and knick knacky stuff for sale. A brass band was playing so it had a nice little ambiance going on. For dinner we went for a cheeky wee curry and cheeky and wee it certainly was. In fact it was a fairly crappy curry. It was supposed to contain chicken, but it was mostly made up of vegetable. In fact, it was very much like a poor mans version of the fine vegetable curry my mum makes. After the first few bites, I was wistfully reminiscing about the curried treats on offer at Charing Cross in Glasgow. Whenever I actually get home, a good curry with naan bread will be one of the first things I go for.

In many of the messenger conversations I have with people, their opening salvo is usually to ask if I have eaten any dog yet. I think this is indicative of two things, how pervasive the notion that dog eating is part of Korean culture and the amazingly unimaginative and rank banter pedaled by many of my friends. With regards the dog eating, I have never eaten dog, nor in fact ever been to a restaurant that serves it. It is as I understand a fairly specialized sort of establishment that does. In fact, I have never actually spoken to a Korean who has eaten dog. Koreans however, really do love dogs.

Now I do not mean that they really enjoying eating dogs, in fact Koreans are very big on keeping dogs as pets. Well kind of. You see, the dogs that most of the Koreans seem to have are some of the crappier dogs that have ever walked the face of the earth. They are all tiny creatures around the size of a Chiuaha. Rubbish, totally rubbish. That is not a proper dog. A labrador is a proper dog. A colly is a proper dog. A sheepdog is a proper dog. These dogs are just cruel genetic mockerys of proper dogs. If you can lift a dog up with one arm and no effort it is not a proper dog. If a normal sized house cat is willing to take on a dog in a square go, it is not a proper dog.

By the way, I just looked at the new Olympic Logo. Without jumping on the bandwagon, it is horrendous. It looks like they sat down Stevie Wonder with a box of Crayola and just told him to go for it. The press release describes it as:

“The new emblem is dynamic, modern and flexible reflecting a brand savvy world where people, especially young people, no longer relate to static logos but respond to a dynamic brand that works with new technology and across traditional and new media networks.”

Now having worked in PR for a short time, I can tell you what was going through the mind of the person writing this release:

“I have no idea what the client wants, I do not know anything about the Olympics apart from Linford Christies lunchbox. Erm, I am not sure what the boss has in mind, as I was hungover during those team meetings. Alright, lets just go for 'dynamic' 'flexible' and 'modern'. These are words that are omnipresent in the deluge of PR magazines that come to work. Yeah add a bit about the Olympics as a brand. Bingo.”

Shite, profligate shite. Has anyone, ever, ever thought of the Olympics as static, rigid and archaic. Yes static and rigid, this event featuring the fastest people on the face of the planet and athletes who jump over large fences using magic bendy poles. Give me a break. The Olympics are supposed to be an epic, regal and majestic event, that is global in its reach and stature. This logo looks like something for Saturday morning TV where pop stars get gunged. Shameful.

I went for Shabu Shabu for dinner last evening, this consists of thinly sliced beef and vegetables boiled in a broth. It comes with some nice sauces and is tastier than it sounds. Anyway, it is one of these places where you have to sit down cross legged while you eat. This means you take your shoes off at the door. Now as we came in there were a bunch of sandals all sitting next to the floor. For some reason we got the impression that these were for the patrons to wear as they sat down. So we put these on as we walked to our table. We were called back by the somewhat frantic staff and hugely laughed at by a Korean family. We had bascially stolen the staffs slippers that they use, thinking they were for the people who were eating. Bloody Westerners eh?

As some of you will have noticed, the updates have slowed down on the blog. To be frank, I have just run out of things to say at the moment. Nothing particularly interesting has been going on lately and when I have sat down to type, the posts seem very dry and banal. To be honest I feel like things have been in a bit of a rut as of late. The same old banter, same old routine etc. In actual fact I gave my Saturday evening drinking a miss last night. I did so for a variety of reasons. These nights out usually last until the wee small hours, and they have a punishing effect on the wallet and the waistline. I really need to lose some weight and try to save a little more money. To be honest I have been binge drinking like I was eighteen years old back in the hive and I am a little bit worried about the effects on my health. Definitely time for a break.

In fact my last class perfectly encapsulated my current malaise. For the last forty minutes my class sat and finished off their homework. So I sat and played Bomblink on my phone, while punctuating the wretched period with occasional glances at their progress. I don't blame them in fairness, it is a Sunday afternoon with gorgeous sunny weather and they are inside writing up speeches on whether to punish Kim Jong Il. Poor overworked buggers. Nevertheless, it is still hard for me not to ask myself if is this what I travelled thousands of miles and left my family and friends for. One one hand, it is an easy way to make money. I sit and watch them scribble away, while at the end of the day, I receive my pay. (Ooh that rhymes.) However, this is indicative of how much of my time is spent. Just a bloody waste, a cardboard cutout would be of as much use.

In other matters I m managed to break my heating this week. Lst Saturday, I woke up to my heating on full blast on a blazing hot day. My goodness , I was sweating like Michael Jackson visiting Disneyland on a busy day. Nasty. Basically, I have now set things up where I seem to have no heating at all, not even for the shower. So I have been taking cold ones and pretending I am sort of hardcore marine type. Ah well, hope everyone is keeping well,

I am just back from getting a Bagel. Now usually getting a bagel would not be considered a stressful or arduous endeavour. However, a normal busy Korean junction during rush hour can change this. It essentially provides a snapshot into why Korea has one of the worst records for traffic accidents and pedestrian deaths in the world. Firstly, Korean drivers manouevere as if they used Mad Max as an instructional video. They lurch, they veer and generally drive with all the skill of the Mr Magoo Formula One team. There are a ton of wee gobshites zooming about on wee scotters and mopeds, who think they are Max Biaggi, despite driving machines that have the horsepower of a Shetland Pony. Now this is on its own dangerous enough. However, Korean pedestrians also move with the spatial awareness of a lemming. This means that I can on a daily basis, see near misses that make me grimace. Madness

As I was typing up my latest rant, we got another few phone calls about kids quitting. The ship is really sinking here and we are now down to under twenty students. To put that in context, we should be operating at over a hundred. Doing my own personal sums I can see that despite the very big fees the asylum charges we are not even covering salaries. Yet the upper management types just want to persevere. I wonder if we will soon be persevering with no students at all.