My last post about the T-ARA controversy had me thinking about why I made it. In all probability the past few months they have gone through will be as statistical noise - irrelevant compared to their career taken as a whole. In fact they seem to be recovering quickly. I suppose the only thing I accomplished in doing so was outing myself as a Queen.

(Yes, that is what they call their supporters. Queens.)

It was a pointless thing to do, but I still felt that I had to do it. I felt I needed to take a stand against the persecution as a matter of principle. There is no context where saying someone deserved to be in a car accident could ever be justified. Calling for someone to be infected with a terminal disease then raped or murdered is unconscionable.

Was the aim to teach the members a lesson? Then if they died or disappeared from the public eye, how would we know that they had learned? How could they practice "not being a bully" if we  take away their opportunity to do so? It seems like the message we're sending out with being so venomous is that some forms of bullying are fine, or perhaps that bullies should be more cunning in hiding their emotional terrorism.    

The appeal to altruism is a lie. What's been done to T-ARA is violence, pure aggression stemming from outrage. And outrage is a tricky emotion; where other emotions' causes would involve the individual in a personal way, outrage bases its trigger on the breaking of social codes that are present in the society the individual belongs to.  That means you don't have to be the wronged party to feel outrage. It also means that people can feel entitled to retaliate over things so inane as using a pot lid as a plate to eat ramen.

I suppose it derives from the sense that when someone crosses a rule they should be immediately punished. When a public figure prances about in front of us we expect him to know his place, that he is merely an entertainer subordinate to our own whims. If he stays long past our interest he becomes the target of scorn, and if he breaks a taboo then the opportunity for greater entertainment arises through his ruination. The anticipation of this greater entertainment as well as its playing out inspires deep emotions within us. For instance, when the Romans held their gladiatorial games it wasn't uncommon for women to be seized with a madness while watching the spectacle. The sight of bloodshed somehow ignited within them lusts that less scrupulous youths would take advantage of - an ancient form of date rape, if you will.

Now, people don't need to gather in amphitheatres; they have the equivalent of perpetual front-row seats. They are close enough to see all the gore and fallout, while at the same time they retain their anonymity and distance so they don't feel guilty over what others have to go through. 

Who gave us the authority, the right to be judge and jury? What qualifies us to be the enforcer of society's rules? I find no comfort in the fact that 50 years ago we were enforcing a completely different set of norms, or that we just need to change countries to find the same set of rules invalidated. 

I feel for every Tablo, Lindy Chamberlain, or Christine Collins out there. I feel for Park So Yeon, Jeon Boram, Ham Eun-jeong, Park Sun-young, Park Ji-yeon, and Ryu Hwa-young.