I brought in a Heineken this morning to pregame for the sixth grade graduation. As a teacher, my attendance is obligatory. Now I’m sitting in the crowd and the buzz is long gone. Two hours so far. Didn’t expect this. Graduation is a merciless affair. They keep playing the Korean national anthem and they actually bring the fucking music teacher up on stage to make the conductor hands with her fat little thumbs and forefingers pinched together, in case this gymnasium full of native Koreans had forgotten how to sing their own national anthem. And if for some reason they had, would seeing conductor hands actually help them? Put down your fucking conductor hands. I wish heckling and throwing objects at the stage was still common practice. Because I have a beer can in my bag. Let’s bring all the heckling and rowdiness back. Let’s devolve. Make anyone on a stage fucking work to keep you invested, respect your investment. Modernity has lowered the stakes. Performers and speakers are too comfortable now.
This fucking ceremony is interminable. Too many speeches and songs. This shit is like the Oscars, if the Oscars were a ritual where one race jacked off to itself for eternity. Wait.
Anyway. They shouldn’t even parade the students around today. Let them go take a nap for once. With how hard the Korean tiger mothers ride their kids, they should be up on stage bowing.
And up next is Kim Eun-song’s mother, who forced him to attend nine hours of after-school academies a day!
That’s what this ceremony is all about anyway. Who can kick their kid’s ass hardest.
Two hours and twenty minutes in. This shit is endless. Graduations are the one reason I don’t want kids. The only reason. What was I thinking, only drinking one beer this morning. Should have brought a flask instead. Sorry about your mom, Eun-song. I’d say it gets easier but it’s about to get the opposite of easy. You’re about to ship off to middle school where you’ll study till you die, and if you survive that then you have to work till you die, and if you survive that then your wife will yell at you till you die. Maybe go get a flask.