Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Tag: journalist

  • Laboratory Conditions (2017) – short film

    Some believe in ghosts, a few see spirits, and many deny souls. How odd that this digital age is when it is, in fact, a kind of spectral age in which Alexa with no face exists without being seen!

    Laboratory Conditions is an engaging cinematic short story about a doctor who puts heart before reason. She also has a brilliant mind, but it’s not corrupted but cherished in her faith in the human spirit. It is an odd combination of sentiment and reason seen in someone like her, or so she may seem. Or is she so? Humans are dualistic and ambivalent anyway, so I can’t say she’s all good, but at least she is sensible and sympathetic.

    Her opposite is the head of medical searchers of the hospital by which she is employed, and she is the only Reason with a face despaired of humanity. She measures human worth by status and thinks those found on the low rungs of the social ladders are unworthy of decent treatment. A modern-day eugenist is on a par with a god deciding who will live or not. She is amoral and negates the existence of human souls, or is she deluded to believe so? Anyway, she doesn’t care about it, an iota. Or has she sold her soul to the devil?

    The film is about 17 minutes long and can be watched on YouTube. It also stars a surprisingly famous cast, such as Marissa Tomei and Minnie Driver, who are excellently cast to play the fitting roles. I have read the comments, an electric mix of kudos to the doctor’s humanity and criticism of her cruelty. But they are all missing the real evil wrapped in a human’s guise among the faces.

  • Prompt 203 on practicing my religion

    Do you practice religion?

    I hear every Sunday morning Mass at 7:00 with my mom, a paragon of a medieval pious Catholic woman who thinks not praying daily will not save a soul from disgrace. But I have not confessed since God knows when because I would feel more comfortable confiding in a paid listener with life experience than an unmarried man.

    To put more weight on blasphemy, I have paid more attention to daily fortune-telling according to my Zodiac animal sign. The amber of faith is still flickering in me, but the spirit revolts against no feedback from the most incredible man above. Sometimes, I wonder how many lives I have lived before being what and who I am when things are not going well. Will I step on a picture of Mother Mary if Christian persecution rises again?

    Amid waves of doubt and amiss, sometimes I am surprised to see myself sending a letter to God, pleading, complaining, demanding, requesting, and hardly thanking. And what about my exclamatory recourse to God when I feel scared after watching horror movies?

    So, does it evidence I still practice Catholicism?

  • Prompt 202 on pre-internet age, aka the 1980s

    Do you remember life before the internet?

    It was neither the Stone Age nor the Iron Age, for sure. Life before the Internet was livable, just like any other age humans have lived. Yes, landline phones were ubiquitous – rotary and touch-tone, as were LP, Cassette tapes, CDs, VHS, Walkman, and a Dolby System. And remember those great movie posters for promotions? The magazines were big, and so was MTV. People wrote letters, not emails. We thought it was the Age of Science, the more civilized than the generations behind, just as the MZ Generation and those wanting to be one of them so like to think about this as their age.

  • prompt 116 on beautiful stranger

    Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

    No, it’s not Madonna’s kind of Beautiful Stranger, but the one whose act of kindness flows from all her deeds and demeanor expressed to the other stranger.

    Back in the days when I worked full-time and studied full-time at college, my purse was often thin, which Benjamin Franklin would have disapproved as a sign of excessive spending. I had to sacrifice two meals a day and leisure to make a living as the family’s eldest child. One day I got on the bus to school, but it was too late to realize that I was short of money. I was embarrased to be a public display of poverty, so I was about to got off the bus crestfallen and misrable. The fact about me is that I am tranparant of my feelings and emotions, which are blatantly shown on my face.

    Then, a beautiful lady resembling one of those figures in the ancient Greek urns offered me help. With a gracious smile, she paid it forward with her money, and I could ride the bus to my classes. She sat next to me and started chatting with me. It dawned on me that she was an exchange college student from Greece and would return to her country soon. I thanked her, and she said she had been in my shoes before. We parted with smiles and hearts that are universal in all humankind.

    John Milton in Paradise Lost describes, “Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions.” Hence, my beautiful stranger.

  • prompt 110 on question

    What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

    A seemingly innocent question can be out of the question depending upon time and place. I have two such questions I hate being asked:

    1. How old are you? – I don’t see the importance of knowing one’s age unless I am in a doctor’s office. Oscar Wilde said a woman revealing her age will tell almost everything. I am not that woman, and I think age should not matter, especially for a woman’s nature to be beautiful.

    2. Can you do me a [big] favor? – The question itself is arbitrarily imposed upon the asked. How dare the other be! Why do I have to perform something that satisfies the id or ego of the other? It is a blatant expression of a market bargaining of human relationships.

    I am easily moved into tears when I see a person in need or watch sad movies. I also forgive people who broke my heart if they apologize to me or treat me nicely later – without asking for a [big] favor. So, the questions mentioned above trouble me extensively with pain, knowing that I have to answer them reluctantly against my true self.

  • Hidden secrets of houses

    Being a homeowner is being a master or mistress of your castle. You can fashion it in whatever style you prefer without thinking about posterior owners who would be new rulers. What if the previous owners of your houses were occultists, Satanists, spiritualists, or criminals of the worst kind? – I mean psychotic murderers who kill people for pleasure or displeasure. Some of them build secret passages or rooms that homeowners accidentally discover, as seen on some YouTube programs filmed mainly by the owners. Naturally, they piqued my curiosity for all things uncanny.

    Imagine there is a hidden basement with a single bed (yes, really so!) whose purpose is terrifyingly mysterious with sinister presumptions. There is also a hidden room in the basement, assumingly a panic room. But these are not figments of imagination but truth. People find them within their houses while renovating the interiors or cleaning them. Because homes were built hundreds of years ago, there have been many homeowners in many cases, and you never know who they were or what they did behind the doors. One spectacular example is an Ohio couple in a relatively recent year who discovered millions of dollars in suitcases hidden in different places and one full of VHS tapes. When the couple reported such findings to the FBI, they must have watched the contents of the recordings because they made sure that the couple would not say a word about their existence as if they never existed. I would not watch them, although I am a curious person by nature, because I feel that they contain abominable acts of unspeakable nature. Even an old convent is not an exception in harboring such a secret place because, in England, the maintenance specialists working on a derelict convent found it, which is quite eerily inquisitive. Why did the religious sisters have it concealed? For what purpose? Did the demons collectively possess the nuns?

    I have always known that these things are possible because old houses have unknown histories with place memories that still linger in the places and are kept in there. Besides, unlike apartments, homes have accessible entrances from downstairs to upstairs. It is said that most psychotic killers reveal that they randomly go about houses, and if the doors are unlocked, they go in and commit atrocious murders or rapes. Apartments are not always wholly safe but comparatively safe and relatively secure. If I had a choice of being the owner of the two premises, it would be an apartment with a nice view, needless to say.