Tuesday – As For Me and My House, We Will Serve the Penguin (and the Panda) Enough of the introductory nonsense. When we last left our hero, I was gearing up to visit an “Orthodox” Paschullian house church in the wilds of Girum-dong. Rumor has it that this area is where the False Prophet is alleged to have begun his fool's errand. I've been sent here against the prevailing better judgment to find out what these people are up to and why they're not doing anything better with their time on a Tuesday night. The term “house church” is a term from the early Christian church and it bears a bit of explanation as it pertains to the Cult of Paschull in Korea. Back in the day, people would meet in normal houses, partly from the fact that the Roman government didn't want to rent space to a terrorist organization and partly because the early Christians viewed large religious buildings as pagan edifices that they wanted nothing to do with. Mostly being mega-c...

Goddamn, sportsfans. With all the protests going on lately, it's been no wonder that no one's heard from me in a while. At present, I can only hope that this address can remain secure long enough for me to bang this out before the mob gets here and rips me limb from limb. The Korean Tourism Board was kind enough to pay for my last story but had no compunction about furnishing the rowdier elements with my whereabouts. In the past few turbulent weeks, I've been hounded, vilified and burned in effigy. Also, some very uncomplimentary things were said about my sweet, gray-haired mother. I will never attempt to defend my writing as I feel it is, on the whole, indefensible. What I will say is that I was more than willing to write a sequel to my previous article on the Korean martial arts and merely got distracted. This seeming snub to the male population of Korea was never intended and should not be seen as such. Crowds of men, women and children have been gathered outside my offi...

The shouts, the cries; ringing in the ears, padded heads and gloves kissing each other in rainstorm precision. Wood, bricks and occasional unlucky bones get broken with dreams and careers. It's just another night on any taekwando or hapkido fight-floor. Exhilarating, breathtaking and all in Korean. This is what the world sees any time it wants an eyeful of martial arts from the Land of Morning Calm and it's all bullshit. I've been commissioned by the Korean Ministry of Tourism to write the truth about martial arts in the land I've called home these three merciless years. I write from the subways, mountains, church parking lots and back alleys of what goes down. People, get ready. The only truth that must be truly grasped is that the women run the show, as above, so below. Bringers of life, mothers of children and skilled fighters the like of which would make most ninjas hand in their headbands. They're started young. As young girls they learn...