The Ubiquitous City

I've been hearing this term thrown around quite a bit at work - almost as much as "livable cities" - but truth be told, until now, I have had no idea what it meant. I've tried to ask people but inevitably each time they just give up trying to explain it. So, with a few spare moments today, I ventured to figure it out. Sure enough, it's a handful - maybe I would do better to defer to my sources to explain it, but I'll do my best... First, a bit of background - Here at KRIHS, we're giving urban utopia the old college try with four main concepts. The interesting part is that three of these concepts/projects are devoted almost entirely to the construction of new cities, virtually from scratch. It's a phenomenon built largely on the changing settlement patterns of people in Korea (and worldwide for that matter). People move away from myriad small towns in rural areas that were built over the centuries around agriculture, mining, fishing, etc. and into the big cities. The little towns, starved of their people and the industries that sustained them, disappear, and the cities experience uncontrolled growth as the best efforts at "smart" planning get tossed aside in the scramble to create space. It's like urging everyone to "just stay calm" in the face of a hurricane. I think I've mentioned before that the country has transformed massively in the past 25 years or so - but from the looks of it, this is only the beginning...

So after learning a few tough lessons the first time around, the government is going ahead with a few rather ambitious ideas. They're the kind of ideas that mostly just get played out in the shadowy reality of Sim City back home - but here, they're actually happening. One is the "new administrative city," a project that will move most of the federal government from Seoul to an entirely new city 100 or so miles away to the southwest - like what the Brazilians did with Brasilia when the government was moved from Rio. A hugely controversial project, it's part of a greater plan to re-distribute the population, and thus economic power, away from Seoul, which continues to be overwhelmed with relentless growth. Another concept that aims to do the same is the "innovative city" project, which involves building new cities around key regional industries, which the government deems to be important. New factories will be built, as will R&D centers, and quasi-public institutions; the intention is to create self-sustaining regional cities that keep people in these regions. Third is the enterprise city - similiar to the previous but with development led by the private sector. The final part of the equation is the livable city, the project I work on, but I'll save that topic for an undetermined time far off into the future when I've figured out what a livable city actually is...

Ok - still here? So the ubiquitous city could be applied to any of the above - but it's really its own animal. Called U-City for short, and U-Life for the lifestyle it presupposes, it's a ground-up city where everything is connected via wireless and RFID technology. As it's presently conceptualized, the 300,000 or so U-City residents will all have smart cards that function as the key to their house, subway pass, credit card, etc; data is shared uber-efficiently between government, medical providers, and business; elderly residents will have pressure-sensitive floors that can immediately detect a fall and call for help; RFID anonymously (you can only hope) tracks the flow, the creation, consumption, and ultimate demise of everything, right down to the coke bottle you casually toss into the recycle bin. At first glance it's just some sort of futuristic, some might say scary, mad scientist-planner dream - but the kicker is that it's already being built (it's called New Songdo City), to the tune of $25B on a 1500 acre man-made island off the west coast of Korea.

All of this is just one part of why I think Asian cities are going to be fascinating places to watch from afar in the next few years - I don't think a lot of this could happen back home, for a number reasons. Of course, personally I enjoy the things more on the human level - the seemingly endless array of bars, restaurants, game rooms, coffee shops, noraebangs, and who knows what else hides in the confines of the neon-sign plastered buildings; the parks where you can spot people picnicking under the trees at 10 PM; the infinitely geniality and generosity that I've encountered in everyone I've met here.

And as much as U-city might sound like just another step closer to some kind of Big-Brother is everywhere Orwellian future, to Koreans I think it's seen as an opportunity to experiment, to be part of something new and exciting (apartments in the new city are already selling fast) - which is what life is like in Korea is all about anyway, constantly changing, for better or for worse. At the center of it all is this common identity, shared history, customs, and last names (a half dozen probably cover 95% percent of the population) - but at the same time this drive to evolve their country in completely new ways through these sorts of grand experiments...which is hard for me to understand sometimes because tradition is such a big part of what is a very complex culture here. Which is also why I take some comfort in knowing that hopefully the best parts of this tradition will be preserved, however the country evolves through U-Life or otherwise.

As I've seen already, I don't recognize a thing from my life here 23 years ago, but the people, and what I love about them, have remained, somewhat reassuringly, a constant.

Great article on futbol in Korea...

http://archives.seattletimes.nwsource.com/cgi-bin/texis.cgi/web/vortex/display?slug=plate22&date=20060622

My dad sent me this article a couple of days ago that I wish I could have written about the World Cup experience in Korea. His description of the Cup in 2002 aptly described the experience this time around:

"For one week, South Korea came to a virtual halt. The rising gross domestic product went on hold; the growing Korean economic efficiency took a dive. Had North Korea unexpectedly chosen to invade the South then, few South Koreans might have noticed."

Korea may be out of the running now, but the spirit of futbol is still running strong - there were plenty of red shirts around on the subway yesterday.

Incidentally, my dad is in Uruguay for the next couple of weeks and blogging away - keep up on his travels here: http://c4w2uruguay.eponym.com/blog

--seantoki

Noring - Or Something Like That

It's supposed to mean beautiful day in Korean - not sure if I got the spelling right but I've been finding that the only way I can remember words is to write them down phonetically - trying to memorize them as people tell me is hopeless - beyond the words I learned at a young age, the language is just too foreign. So, I carry around my Moleskine everywhere and take my Korean vocabulary donations as they come to me...which so far is working out pretty well.

Today was my second meeting with the Hos. Dr. Kim was to come along as well, I assumed in order to help translate for me, as he helped to do last weekend. I felt a little bad, since I didn't really want him to feel obliged to be my personal translator and I know he has way more important things to do with his time...something wasn't quite right though - he seemed a bit over-dressed for a simple translating job - I thought perhaps I had missed something and we were going to another extravagant lunch somewhere. In any case we caught a cab to Seocho-dong and walked into the cafe where we were meeting the Hos - there they were, sitting at the back, with a well-dressed woman who I didn't recognize. I wasn't quite sure who she was or why she was there - another daughter I had forgotten about perhaps? - until Mr. Ho and Dr. Kim got up to order; Mrs. Ho then smiled this huge, giddy smile and pointed to the woman, making one of those internationally-recognized motions with her hands that instantly made the situation clear - Mrs. Ho had set them up! The woman didn't seem quite as excited, and things seemed a little awkward between her and Dr. Kim for the next few minutes at the table, but Mrs. Ho, charming as ever, never let silence creep in. When we got up to leave, we left them alone to fend for themselves - I don't know how things worked out between them, but Mrs. Ho sure did her part to break the ice.

We went on to see several sights in Seoul, starting off with Chandgok Palace and the National Art Museum. They had this great exhibit on paintings of children in Korea. I've always loved Asian art, especially Korean painting, but hadn't really been exposed to much in the way of modern Korean art. This exhibit was a nice mix of the traditional (a simple, natural, graceful and intricate style depicting landscapes, rural scenes, wildlife, etc.) and the more expressionist post WWII style, which, though connected more to the west, still has a uniquely Korean element to it. Later, we went on to the Korean Folk Museum at Gyeonbok palace that had some beautiful screen paintings - I could look at the simple designs of birds, fish, flowers, and the like all day. No really, I could.

After a hearty lunch it was on to the Namsam tower - every city worth its salt needs some sort of tall, pointy structure that can drive hordes of people to pay good money to wait sometimes hours in line to get that Google Earth view. But Google Earth and pictures on a screen just don't seem to match actually being there, which is why we happily spend hours getting up these towers. Which of course, I was happy to do - Seoul is truly a magnificent work to behold from 1000 feet up. The city is gigantic, and transformation continues unabated - new hi-rises are still going up everywhere, accomodating the still-growing population from other areas of the country as Seoul's gravitational pull steadily increases. Land prices are through the roof, and just getting an apartment in Seocho, where the Hos live, requires a deposit of around $1M - monthly rent is on top of that. Someone I spoke to here at KRIHS told me that Mr. Ho probably sold his house for 100 times the original purchase price. I don't know how people can possibly afford to live here, but somehow they do, 10 million strong in the city limits alone. It's making me wonder about how to approach the issue of affordable housing in my research, and if anything can possibly be done about it. Argh...headache...time to reflect on some simpler themes from the day...

I can't get over how much I enjoy being with the Hos again, for so many reasons. First, I feel like I've been re-united with some long-lost family members - though I last knew them as a five-year old child, and I'm picking up where I left off now as a 27 year-old. I knew them in an entirely different context, but it doesn't feel that strange to me. It's like they were somehow always there. Second, it's amazing to see them in such good mental and physical health at 75 - going up the steps (and there were many of them, big ones) to the tower today, they didn't seem fazed whatsoever, never even once stopping to rest. They say they both exercise every day - Mrs. Ho swimming, Mr. Ho walking, lifting weights, and even playing soccer now and then. And I'd be willing to bet most 75 y.o.'s can't command a cell phone like Mr. Ho - it seems every 10 minutes he's whipping it out, rapid-fire dialing away. Third...and this is by far the most important...the two of them have a relationship that just amazes me. The chemistry they have is totally fascinating. One of them will be telling the other some story (all in Korean, so regretfully I never really get to hear what they're actually talking about), getting more and more animated until both of them just burst out laughing, Mrs. Ho slapping Mr. on the leg, laughing away, falling back in their chairs, wiping their eyes...it's so fun to watch. Of course I can't help laughing too, just being happy for them, and whatever is making them laugh. Another thing that just completely cracked me up was at dinner, which we had with Wan Ok (one of their daughters) as well - the three of them were having a very animated conversation about something, and finally, Mr. and Mrs. Ho, laughing, put their pinky fingers together and then touched their thumbs at the same time. I nearly died - it was a pinky promise between the two of them to quit eating so much, to not drink, to generally be healthier. I can't imagine how these two could be doing much better, but it any case it had to be the moment of the evening.

The only other thing that could possibly compete as a memorable moment was earlier in front of Namsum tower, just me and Mr. Ho, eating popcorn and of course, a can of OB each to wash it down. Truly a beautiful day.

A Red Sunset

I awoke yesterday to a strange calm and knew right away that it had been the end for Korea's World Cup hopes. I had planned to head down to Seoul city hall to join the red-clad masses for the game at 4 AM, but after my own soccer game the night before (our team actually played four) I wasn't really feeling up to an all-nighter. But, I did have a very reliable system (though most futbol purists would question this tactic) - simply go to bed, and if Korea scored, people would make so much noise the building would shake and I (yes, even I) would wake up. That's what happened last time when Korea tied France in the 81st minute. However, should Korea not score, I would be spared the immediate pain of having to watch the team lose, at least until I was well-rested. As it turned out, I got my sleep - Korea went down and out, 2-0. It was a good run, and I got to see what's it's like to be in the thick of a country where the sport of futbol permeates nearly everyone's consciousness for a little while. It's part passion, part harmless propaganda - almost every building downtown has a 20-story poster of Park Ji-Sung (the star player for Korea) on it and during Korea's run, replays of games would play near-constantly on TV. Armies of fans were everywhere wearing red T-shirts with slogans like "Reds go Together," and "Again Korea 2006," some of them wearing devil-horns. Meanwhile North Korea was trying to crash the party, planning its first long-range missle test in eight years - but on the news, it was effectively filler. Futbol 1, WMD 0. Very satisfying.

A'Guevo El Tricolore!

Ok, so maybe it wasn't the most graceful way to make it to the round of 16, but Mexico is in - I'm happy for them, and especially the Guero, who I earlier promised a win for El Tri. Don't worry my friend, they'll live to play a better game, assuming no more flagrant hand-ball fouls in front of the goal and the refs don't keep handing out yellow cards like candy....

I got my first real assignment today for the Livable Cities project here at KRIHS - a report on Seattle as a "livable city" (you'll be hearing those two words a lot in the next couple of months, be forwarned...) and it's due on Friday at noon. I work with a team of five other researchers, three of whom have PhD's. So to say the least I'm flattered, as a going-on 2nd year MUP, to be a part of their project. The pace so far has been pretty leisurely - besides putting together my research topics I've mostly been responsible for making appearances at various celebrations (there are plenty), but I have a feeling that's about to change...which honestly is fine with me - I couldn't be at a better place right now and I'm happy to be a part of it.

Last night was my first experience with the "3rd time" - noraebang!! Yea! (refer to "the recap" post for more of an explanation) After yet another sumptous meal of uncured BBQ pork and all the accoutrements (kimche, raw garlic, sesame leaves, mushrooms, etc.) along with a healthy dose of soju, we headed off to "2nd time" (beer, fruit, dried squid), and then, naturally enough, it was on to #3...I was really curious to see what this was all about - I'd read about these "bang" in my Lonely Planet on the plane ride over, but couldn't wrap my head around the concept. So it's basically like walking into a bar, music's playing, lights, the usual, but there's no one in there except the host and this guy wearing a leather vest, who's there to take our drink orders. Looking around I notice there are doors to rooms, with windows that you can't see thru...which is where I start wondering exactly what kind of place this is. Not to worry - it's just another part of modern Korean culture that my Western mind can't quite reach yet. That all changes soon enough as we walk into the room, where there are couches, a coffee table, our own private disco ball, a big screen, tambourines, and a massive karaoke machine! It's time to party! There are five of us, two Phd's in their early 50's and three of us researchers - the first guy to pick up the mic is the quietest of the group - but clearly a closet professional. Without even looking at the karaoke guide, he walks right up and types in a number, and immediately begins what turns out to be a gripping, emotional performance of a soaring Korean ballad. The built-in live/echo effects help add drama too. I'm nearly crying by the end, shaking my tambo' all the way to the desperate finish. The next hour we belt out our respective classics - for me it's (2 Shoes, I apologize in advance...) Sweet Caroline, Billie Jean, and YMCA. I guess I had needed that for a long time, cuz I really felt satisfied at the end of the night. Don't worry, I think I've fulfilled my Neal Diamond cravings for the next couple of years at least ;)

More on Korean "night-culture" in a bit - there's so much more to be said about how this place transforms after dark - but for now it's simply time to go to bed.

I'll sleep well knowing Guero's going to be alright with Mex in the final 16... ;)

Return to Seocho-dong II - A New Hope

Some big news today - my host, who is graciously letting me stay rent-free at his apartment in Anyang, called a number I had given him to try to call the Hos, the family who we lived with in 1981-83 in Seocho-dong. By no small miracle, the number was still good, and he told them I was here in Korea and that I wanted to see them again. They were apparently very excited by this news, and wanted to see me as soon as possible. The anticipation of seeing them again was beyond words - again, a memory locked far away in a vault without anything tangible for a long time, until now. Very surreal. So, we got on the subway to Seocho-dong and I tried not to think about it too much - I was having trouble really comprehending it anyway. We got to Seocho and waited outside the station, where Mr. Ho was to meet us. I remembered he always drove this big black luxury car, and almost expected to see the same one pull up. Sure enough, he and Mrs. Ho pull up in a big black luxury car - which could just have well been the same one as the one 25 years ago, except for the fact that it was noticeably newer. There they are - memories transformed into tangible form once again - they look great, quite a bit older now, of course, but they don't look or seem "old." In fact, both of them are 75 years old now, but you'd never know. Mrs. Ho looks elegant, a beautiful, graceful face; Mr. Ho strong and agile, deftly dialing his cell-phone whilst navigating through Seoul traffic - normally I'd be annoyed as a passenger, but for him, well, it's all admiration.

They take me to lunch at the Hyatt hotel, overlooking Seoul - easily the best lunch I've had in years. All varieties of sushi, meats, Korean and Japanese vegetable dishes, steak, and a plethora of desserts are laid out on what must be a good 30 yards of tables. While we feast, we talk about the old times...I want to know all about the old neighborhood in Seocho, what their kids are doing now, Mrs. Che, who was Mr. Ho's mother and who helped take care of Margo and I in their house...I'm very pleased to find out that Mrs. Che is still alive, at 97, living in Atlanta no less. The neighborhood, they say, has changed - the house is no longer there (it was demolished four years ago to make way for a high-rise art gallery) and many of the places I remembered had been replaced by other things. I realize later how ridiculous my inquiries must have sounded to them...more on that in a bit. Anyway, their family is doing well, though eerily I can't seem to find out anything about the younger son. They ask about me, my parents and grandparents - I don't explicitly reveal anything about my parents being separated for six years now.

Later, we go to their daughter, Wan-ok's apartment and enjoy another reunion with her and her husband. It's wonderful to see them - Wan-ok's husband's good-heartedly relates a fond memory of me as a petulant kid who didn't want to be called a "boy." I can't imagine what was going on in my head at the time...

Their second daughter, Wan-mi shows up with her 13 y.o. boy - again, wonderful to see her again. Their features look just like I remember them, and they still look young. She has this great box of Korean pastries for me - her memory is spot-on - If she only knew how I searched high and low for those treats in the U.S. without much luck.

Then I get this idea - I'm picking up a wireless internet signal from somewhere, and I have Skype = call the U.S. for $.02 minute - it's 10:30PM Seattle time and my dad would be home. So I dial and sure enough he picks up - the mic is on my laptop and his voice is coming through the speakers as I pass it around to everyone. Here we are, all talking together for the first time in 23 years. It was technology at its best, working in its most satisfying form. And not a bad price, considering it was $8/minute back then.

We leave Wan-ok's apartment and the moment of reckoning has come - it looks like they've heard enough of me asking about the old neighborhood so that's where we're headed next. We pull off the main arterial and drive onto a side-street for a few blocks, and then stop. I'm not sure what we're stopped for, but then they tell me...this is it. I look around at the generic apartment buildings that surround me and can't believe my eyes. There's nothing there that bears any resemblance to what what once was. The house? It's that art gallery/apartment building, at least 10 stories tall. The playground? huh? The square? Surplus space. That doesn't exist here. The pond behind the house? riight. The hill...the hill must still be there. Hills don't just disappear. But here, they do. If it's there at all it's covered by apartment buildings. The neighborhood, as I knew it, is gone. The closest thing I have to a tangible memory are the Hos, the people with whom we lived. But the rest...just precious memories now.

Later it's on to dinner at Wan-mi's apartment, an excellent meal - I eat and eat, trying to finish the food, but every time it looks remotely like something might be getting close to being done, more gets heaped on the serving-plate. I realize it's a hopeless endeavor, so I give up, satisfied, and spend the rest of the evening watching soccer and pro-wrestling whilst enjoying a couple of cans of OB with Mr. Ho.

I'll linger over this memory for a while.

Day 4 - Return to Seocho-Dong

The day has finally come - for years and years I've been wanting to re-visit this place where I spent three years of my childhood. Some of my first memories came from here, vivid ones, sights, smells, impressions - they all came on strong here in Korea. Seocho is a part of my past that until now has been intangible, safely tucked away in young brain cells that must be closed tightly in my mind's iron vault somewhere. But as I step out of the subway station, I feel a sense of familiarity...though it's like seeing someone who you think you know, but not knowing exactly where you know them from, and even then, if you even really know them at all. No matter...I decide to let my instincts take charge and wander through some streets that I'm sure will become familiar any time now. Around every bend my heartbeat jumps as I expect to see that old house with the wrought-iron fence around it, next to the playground with the big metal swings, the village square with the old man and his merry-go-round, towed by a pair of donkeys, and of course the old hill where my dad and I used to walk up for lunch. All in technicolor, of course. Each time I think I've caught the scent, it fades into ambiguity. My instinct is mixing with my imagination, and I soon find myself wandering aimlessly in an unfamiliar place. Still, I find myself looking down a street, seeing a building, eyeing a fence that I think might hold a clue...but now I'm just fooling myself into remembering something that wasn't there. I take a few pictures that I hope mom or dad can interpret, and call it a day.

Stilll, it's a nice afternoon and I head up to the Seoul Arts Center, which is a massive expanse of concrete buildings, fountains, and plaza. A security guard quickly wards off any intrepid child who wanders too close to the fountain - no splashing allowed here! A little bummed that I can't jump in myself, I decide to head up into the wooded area behind the arts center, complete with a beautiful garden and further on up, a Buddhist temple. I catch a whiff of green incense and it instantly takes me back - makes sense as I've read that smell memory is easily stored in long-term memory and has powerful connections to emotional memory...so take care of that nose...

I end up hiking all the way to the top of this small mountain, which wasn't in the itinerary for today but was something I definitely needed - all I'd been doing in the weeks before this trip was slaving away on my finals, frantically moving large boxes around, and generally doing my best not to relax in any way. Not really the point of life though. The fresh air (kind of) and the feeling of being away from it all (if only a few hundred yards from the city) was welcome relief. At the top of this mountain was a shrine of some sort, a guy selling popsicles, and a few hula-hoops to loosen up with after the climb (Why haven't we thought of that?) Along the way there are all kinds of other things to make your leisurely hike harder - pull-up bars, benchpresses, and the like. I end up meeting a guy who has lived in Seocho-dong for a long time, and I try to get some info from him - but it's not much use. We do have a good conversation on the way down about Washington apples and China's global effects on life, the universe, and everything.

The first three days - a re-cap

There's so much to be writing about now, I think a condensed version of the last week pre-blog is in order. So rather than writing a novel about the last week, a few highlights...

Tuesday was the great sending-off from Sea-Tac...the adventure begins with a total alarm clock failure and frantic last-minute packing (old hat to me anyway...) Luckily I've given myself two hours of lead time to get to the airport, so I have plenty of time to check in. I tell the agent I'm checking three bags - bad news. It's going to cost me some ridiculous amount of money for the extra bag, enough for me to temporarily modify the laws of physics and bring my bags down to two. I get a call from Will Damon who is there at the gate to bid me farewell, orange vest and all. Jim Diers appears from somewhere and we get on the plane to SFO...

On the plane in SFO I find that I somehow have "economy plus" status - yeah, that extra legroom you had two years ago? Feel free to buy it back now. As we pull into position for takeoff, I try to picture what it was like flying over in 1981 on that big Northwest Orient 747 that my grandfather, then an airline mechanic, had personally readied for our flight. The extra legroom is nice - it makes flying right by Seattle again on the way up a little less painful. 12 hours later I arrive bleary-eyed into a very wet Incheon, S. Korea, get into the country without any problems, and sleep most of the way to Anyang.

Day 2....

My first day at work is pretty straightforward - all I have to do is attend a conference on Livable Cities and manage to stay awake through six hours of speakers. It's all actually pretty interesting - livable cities is of course the common theme, from the perspective of Korea, the U.S., the U.K., and Japan. And they have these cool little translator devices that make understanding Korean and Japanese much easier. I receive what seems like 300 business cards and try to remember who gave them to me.

As is often the case, the reception afterward made for the highlight of the evening. The food is superb, and I get my first introduction to soju. Again, livable cities provides hours of fun. After many a toast in the name of LC it's definitely time for bed. Oh, wait, no...it's not. In Korea, the evening rarely ends with dinner...there's at least a "second time" (beers and fruit, dried fish, and the like), and if you're lucky, there's a "third time," i.e. a few rounds of karaoke (there's a Korean word for it but it's escaping me now...). I managed a couple glasses of OB before the jet lag ends the party for me...

Day 3...

Second day of the Livable Cities conference...Jim "Mr. Neighborhoods" Diers gives a rousing talk on the power of the Fremont Troll, Hideki Koizumi further delves into Machizukuri (village-making), and Prof. Carmona tells of the redemption of Birmingham, which in the 60's was given the honor of being Britain's first car-friendly city. Fortunately, it's what keeps us urban planner types in business, and they've since re-created the town to be people-friendly once again.

I think the highlight of the day was seeing the giant troll up on the projector screen, and being alone in knowing what on earth it was doing there.

This post is just so I can have a blog picture

Hi

Since I arrived here in Anyang five days ago, I have been wanting to tell the world (or maybe just a few friends) of all the goings-on of my life in Korea, so yesterday I made the irreversible decision to raise the curtain and venture out onto the blogospherical stage.

So much has happened in the past week - like things I have been looking forward to for many years - that I'm a bit at a loss as to how to write about it all now, especially since this new world I've stepped into is so new and mesmerizing in so many ways. Maybe I'll take a stab at committing to e-paper some things I've been writing about in my head over the past few days, starting from my arrival at Incheon last Wednesday...

Oh, and a little history for anyone who stumbled across my blog somehow and doesn't know who I am or why I'm here...I'm working for the Korea Research Institute for Human Settlements for the summer, located just south of Seoul in the city of Anyang, as part of the Master's of Urban Planning program at the University of Washington. Korea and I go way back - from 1981 to 1983 I lived in a neighborhood near Seoul with my family (my dad was in the navy at the time), on the second floor of a Korean household. I was five years old when I left, but I have vivid memories of growing up here and the experience left a strong impression on me as a young'un. Now, 23 years later, the city is one totally transformed beyond what is was when I was a child, and the neighborhood where I grew up (Seocho-dong) has changed completely - nothing at all bears any resemblance to its physical form when I left it. Korea, though a different place now, nonetheless remains totally fascinating to me, and hopefully I can convey some of that fascination with the massive power of the internet at my fingertips...