#44. 드립 -- How to compliment a fellow internaut on a post well done

Although I'm no expert in literature, it seems to me that a lot of value is placed on novel expressions (and cliché is, for the most part, hated.) If the Koreans could figure out a way to be a little less vulgar on the internet, the Korean internet could really be a treasure trove for the aspiring writers, and the Korean internet writers would be veritable literary connoisseurs.

From the ancient times, Koreans always have placed a lot of value on humour and satire. If there was a political problem, the literate people would write a fun novel meant to satirize the situation. The common folks would put on a show that makes fun of the higher-up political people. You've probably seen the traditional Korean masks called "탈." The Korean common folks would dance with these masks on in the busy marketplace (which became an artform called "탈춤" or "masked dance") so that people would not know the identity of the brave ones that dared to criticize the powerful people. Koreans believe that by laughing about a problem together, at least there would be moral support for the difficult times that they must endure together.

A masked dance like this possibly originated from making fun of a corrupt Buddhist monk (who is supposed to remain celibate) associating with women -- even with this public display, the identity of the dancers were kept secret thanks to the mask (탈).

The tradition of humour continues to this day, and the internet users of Korea often hopes to come up with a fresh expression that makes people laugh. For example, I have previously written about someone complaining about no meat in his meal.

The opposite word of cliché is probably "ad lib," or "애드립" in Korean, which underlines spontaneity and the novelty. Koreans have shortened this word to "드립" to talk about the new expressions.

As an aside, this shortening makes a lot of sense to the Koreans; remember that most Korean names are three letters, and the first letter is the last name -- for example, "정윤호" is a name of a Korean, whose first name is "윤호" and whose last name is "정." If you wanted to be friendly with this person, you just call them by their first name "윤호." Koreans use this approach to a lot of three-letter words. If you wanted to convey the feeling of vulgarity, you often drop the first letter of a three-letter word and use the latter two letters, if the first letter does not contribute in a major way to the meaning of the word. For example, "아줌마" often gets abbreviated to "줌마" which is a lot more vulgar and familiar in style.

Anyway, "드립" in Korean now applies to an extremely wide variety of internet posts that are spontaneous and funny in nature. It could refer to an entire post that is humorous and unexpected, or it could refer to a single sentence or even just a phrase that brings humour to a situation. For example, here is a post from DC Inside (Korean Reddit) that is considered to be a pretty funny 드립:

The poster spontaneously decided to post about his lunch, as shown in his title "오늘 점심밥" (today's lunch). He then posts a picture of some fries and coke, and writes in the body: "My hamburger got stolen by some elementary school bastard while I went to the counter to get some ketchup."

"초딩" is a standard slang for "elementary school student" (and we also have the words 중딩, 고딩, 대딩, and 직딩, for middle schoolers, high schoolers, university students, and people who work.) "새끼" means a "bastard" and you can pretty much add it to any noun to express your displeasure. For example, if you don't like your teacher, you can say "선생 새끼" or if you just bumped your toe into a table, you can say "테이블 새끼." While it is considered a bad profanity in real life, in most internet communities, it is just another word. Anonymity of the internet does wonders!

"시발" is like "f-ing" and you can pretty much add it to any part of your sentence to convey to the readers that you're upset or angry about something. Any of these would be a valid and natural sentence to a native Korean (I don't understand the grammatical workings, but putting "시발" in any other place would seem unnatural; perhaps you can figure out the rules, in which case, please comment to let me know!):

시발 햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 시발 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 시발 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 시발 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 시발 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 시발 훔쳐감

In any case, the original poster of the above was complimented of his "드립" by the other DC Inside users, for being funny, original, and unexpected. The users might have said things like:

ㅋㅋㅋ 드립보소 (Look at the 드립 of this guy!)

or

드립 죽인다 (the 드립 is so good that it could kill)

There are many words that are born from "드립" which is more or less a root word at this point in the Korean internet, but I will have to deal with those some other time, as this post is already pretty long! However, if you ever wanted to compliment a funny post, try using the word "드립" to refer to the post!

While this word is not offensive in any way, due to the fact that slang is often used within a certain demographic group, you should only use this with your friends, or on the internet.

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#43. 종범 -- Invisible

Baseball is a huge part of the Korean sports scene. In fact, there are multiple internet communities dedicated to the discussion of baseball. The two major ones that I can think of are MLB Park (엠팍 for short in Korean) and 국내야구 갤러리 (야갤 for short in Korean) of DC Inside. In theory, the former is more concerned with the major league baseball, and the latter with the Korean league, but n reality, these distinctions don't really exist. (As an aside, if you're planning to join one of these communities as a way to practice your Korean, I recommend MLB Park, as the 야갤 users have somewhat of a shady reputation, and it is one of the rougher areas of the Korean internet geography...)

Anyway, once upon a time, there was a huge debate on MLB Park pertaining to the best shortstop of the Korean baseball league. The two candidates were 이종범 and 양준혁, both of whom are legendary players. For my own lack of baseball knowledge, I won't get into the stats and try to make my own choice. However, the one thing that I can say for sure is that 이종범 had more enthusiastic fans.

While their stats were more or less similar to each other, the fans of 이종범 asserted that he was superior to 양준혁 because "he had something more not quantifiable in numbers."

This probably makes sense to his fans, but to the outsiders, it's nothing but a laughable claim. It almost seems like the last resort before definitively losing an argument, even. So the non-fans started making fun of this claim. Now, the first name "종범" of this unfortunate baseball player (who didn't do anything wrong other than being one of the two best players of his time!) also means "invisible," or "nonexistent."

Some Koreans decided to honour this unfortunate baseball player with the following photoshopped picture.

For example, if you didn't make the honour roll this semester, your friend might make fun of you by saying:

이번 학기 우등생 명단에서 네 이름은 종범이네 (Your name seems invisible in the honour roll this semester).

Or if your favourite singer releases a new song and it never makes it into the Korean music charts, you might say:

이번 신곡은 차트에서 종범이네 (The newest song seems nonexistent in the charts.)

 The main users of this neologism are men in their teens and early twenties, so there's the usual vulgarity that gets attached to such slang. Furthermore, some Koreans think that this word originated from ilbe (which probably has the worst reputation out of all of the Korean internet communities,) so if you use it nondiscriminately, you might come under fire that you did not intend. So I would use this word with care, and only among your closest friends or in certain internet communities such as ilbe, MLB Park, and 야구갤러리. Yet I still find this word to be entertaining in the uniquely Korean way. Such usage could only be born in a tight-knit community such as Korea!

As a final fun fact, apparently 이종범 himself is aware of this usage. As far as I know, he has not made any official statements about how he feels about it, but some Koreans think that this is disrespectful to the legendary baseball player.

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#40. 호모나 게이득 -- A contradictory society

I find Korea to be a country full of contradictions. One of the things that I find to be the most strange is its attitude towards the same-sex relationships.

Just like in any country, the younger people tend to be more open about the same-sex relationships, although many elder people will openly speak out against it. In any case, the Koreans tend to be a lot more conservative about it as a whole. Misinformation and prejudice is definitely present, and most non-heterosexual people stay closeted, so to speak. I suppose a part of the reason is that the men are expected to complete a mandatory military service, where you share the same room and shower together in an open space, and if you reveal that you are gay, you could be ostracized, although I don't think this is the entire reason.

A good Korean friend of mine, who completed her high school education in Korea and moved to North America, still finds the idea of same-sex relationship difficult, in that while she is fine with most such relationships, she is uncertain how she would react if her (hypothetical) children turned out to be not heterosexuals. She admits that her attitude is because of her upbringing in Korea, where "fitting in" is always emphasized more than your individuality.

So I am always confused when Koreans go wild over manhwa (Korean version of anime) scenes depicting romance between two male characters (of course, they're also into romance between two female characters, but I want to talk about the male relationships in this post.) I really have no explanation for why they are so open towards same-sex relationships in anime (in Korean, they're often called BL for Boy Love or GL for Girl Love), but have such difficulty translating this into real-life stuff.

There's a particular phrase that the Koreans use to cheer on BL, especially when it was unexpected, which I find to be hilarious (albeit confusing, given their usual attitude!) When a manhwa scene shows a sweet romance between two male characters, the commenters often scream

호모나 게이득!

I find this phrase to be so clever, because it is a classic example of double entendre (or, double sens dans le vrai français -- desolée, Francophone readers!) When you read the phrase out loud, it sounds very similar to "어머나 개이득!" which is precisely what it is trying to say. "어머나" is just an exclamation of surprise (because a conservative Korean doesn't expect to see BL in most places) and "개이득" is a vulgar exaggeration of the word "이득" which means "gain" or "windfall." So the phrase "어머나 개이득" means "wow, what a f-ing lucky day!"

However, the phrase also has a second meaning. The reason why "어머나" was substituted for "호모나" is because "호모" is short for "homosexual" in Korean. Similarly, "게이득" has been substituted for "개이득" because "게이" is how Koreans write the word "gay."

To sum up, this phrase reflects the Koreans' joy at seeing a romantic scene between two men. Really?!!

Unfortunately, it is really used exclusively online. First of all, because of the similarity in its pronunciation to "어머나 개이득," people wouldn't necessarily get it when you say it out loud. Secondly, Korea is not yet so liberal that these kinds of comments are appropriate in public (nor will you see a ton of such displays of affection.) You don't really comment on how awesome it is too see public displays of affection anyway!

In any case, I find it encouraging that Korea is still progressing, and they're keeping their humour sharp!

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#39. 발암 -- It's killing me!

Here's an expression that I'm not a huge fan of, but it is used widely as of a couple of years ago.

There's some degree of belief among the Koreans (although not nearly as widespread as fan death, I think!) that stress causes cancer. FYI, it seems that there's no real evidence that stress causes cancer at the moment.

Anyway, if you frequent the Korean internet, you will undoubtedly see a lot of stress-inducing users. Some of them are so blinded by their own convictions that they refuse to have a conversation, preferring to more or less resort to circular logic and using the technique of 도배 to get through their points. Some of them are so foul-mouthed (even by Korean standards!) that you actually cannot stand reading their profanity. You of course see them everywhere on the internet worldwide, but because of the unique Korean internet culture, I always find that the problematic users are more problematic in Korea. At least, while I am very rarely bothered by the anglophone or francophone internet users (the only two other languages that I am confident with) I am often shaking my head at the Korean internet users.

This, of course, happens a lot less frequently in real life, but these people exist nonetheless.

Since some of these experiences are stress-inducing (and downright traumatizing if you're not used to the Korean internet culture,) the Koreans call these people "carcinogenic," or "발암" in Korean. The letter "발" means to "induce," as in "유발 (to cause)" or "시발점 (starting point)." The letter "암," of course, just means "cancer."

The word "발암" is completely standard, featured in Korean dictionaries, and if you wanted to use it in its proper way, you say it in sentences such as:

석면은 발암물질이다. (Asbestos is a carcinogenic material.)

However, in its neologism, it means that you are so angry and frustrated, and that you have that feeling of stuck 고구마 in your chest (probably eventually leading to cancer.) In this usage, Koreans might say:

 보람이는 남의 말은 들으려고 하지도 않아. 걘 정말 발암이야. (Boram never listens to others. She is carcinogenic.)

You could also use it as a prefix, and talk about a "발암 영상" (cancer-inducing video clip, meaning a video clip that makes the viewer angry and frustrated) or "발암 경기" (cancer-inducing game, when your team played so terribly that you nearly died from the frustration).

When I first heard it a couple of years ago, I was so violently against this expression because it felt like such a heartless and uncouth thing to say when so many people are affected by cancer each year. However, this word seems to be used in a fairly lighthearted way, often just substituting the word "frustrating." I am still very much against it and have never used it myself, and perhaps for the same reason, this word seems to be in a rapid decline -- I saw it everywhere a year ago, but not nearly as much nowadays. It's not completely out of fashion yet, however.

For this reason, I would reserve using this word only for conversations with very close friends, or on the internet (where more things are forgivable, for what it's worth.) But in any case, it's a good usage to know, since otherwise the expression probably doesn't make sense as a non-Korean.

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#37. 동공지진 -- Oh, Sh!t

Have you ever had that experience, where you know you screwed up, and you have no idea how to get yourself out of the situation? You're embarrassed, you feel terrible, you want to apologize but you're not sure how things will go from there, and there doesn't seem to be much else that you can do. You're stuck and you know it. And you can't bring yourself to make eye contact with anyone.

So you carefully control your gaze, but of course, that means your gaze just wanders everywhere except that one place every few seconds. Oops.

Koreans have a really cute expression for this situation. They call this state "동공 지진." Here, "동공" means "pupil." "지진" means "earthquake." Namely, your pupils are shaking as if there was an earthquake going on.

While this is not often used in a sentence, and rather as a very short expression like "oh, snap!" you'll see this word a fair bit in TV subtitles (Korean TV usually has subtitles, and they're pretty witty and hilarious!) such as in the following image:

Then you know that the woman in the image got into some trouble that is difficult to get out of. If you wanted to really use it in a sentence, you would use it mostly in internet-style dialogues, such as:

동공지진 보소 ㅋㅋㅋㅋ (look at your eyes shaking lol)

I suppose I find this word to be hilarious because the two words that make up this new expression are fairly scientific words. No one would say "동공" in a regular conversation. They would say "눈동자." And "지진," while used commonly, is still a word you hear in a science class. These two highly scientific words combined in an unusual way to describe a pretty cute situation, and I detect humour from there, as do most other Koreans.

The word is not offensive, but the word seems fairly new, maybe only a couple of years old, and I would restrict the usage to fairly young people, maybe people in their 30s and younger.

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#36. 부심 -- Be proud of who you are (but don't be overly so)

If you have spent any time in Korea, or if you have any friends who identify culturally with Korea, you might have noticed that they are pretty humble about their achievements. This probably stems from the culture of putting the community first before yourself, and it is one of the most intricate aspects of the Korean culture that I cannot explain in a single post. The Koreans react more strongly even to what we call humblebrag (where people pretend to be humble while fishing for compliments), and learning to brag in Korea without turning half of your friends into enemies might take a very, very long time.

Anyway, that doesn't mean the Koreans don't have any self-esteem. In fact, there's a whole family of words related to your self-esteem. The stem of all of these words come from the standard Korean word "자부심." It could be translated as self-pride, but it's a bit more than that in nuance. It's believing that you're in a good place in whatever aspect is being discussed, you're confident because of how you feel about yourself, and so you love yourself a little bit more than the others. For example, when you win a prize in something and you get awarded the prize in front of your entire school during the school assembly (this does happen on a regular basis in Korea), you are probably feeling "자부심." It's not as permanent as self-confidence for most people, although I'm sure that some people live with it all the time.

Sorry for being pretty!

In the word "자부심," the letter "자" has a Chinese origin, meaning "self." For example, "자신" or "자기" both means "oneself.

Anyway, this is not necessarily a negative word. For example, a school principal might tell the students:

여러분은 이 학교의 학생이라는것에 자부심을 가져야 합니다. (You should feel proud that you are students of this school.)

But depending on context, it could have negative meanings, if someone is too confident.

Anyway, if "자" means "self," what should "부심" mean? Well, "자부심" roughly means "self-confidence," "self-love," and all that stuff, so "부심" should mean "confidence," or "love."

Thus another internet slang was born. If a friend of yours, call her 인아, is the class president (in Korean, we call that "반장." The letter "반" means "class" as in "1학년 1반 -- class 1 of grade 1," and "장" means "captain," "leader," etc., as in "대장 (captain)," "장군 (general)," "회장 (CEO or the leader of a company)" and so on,) and say that she is always shoving the fact that she is the class president in your face. Maybe she always orders you around. Maybe she calls you to check that you've done your homework, or maybe she makes you clean the classroom after classes way more often than you should. And she thinks that she's better than everyone because she's the class president.

Then while you talk about her behind her back with your other friends (as you will sooner or later do, if you had a friend like that!) you might say,

인아는 반장부심이 너무 커. (Ina is too confident and proud of the fact that she is the class president.)

Here, the word "반장부심" should mean something like "loving the status of 반장," or "being confident of the fact that she is a 반장." That is, you replace the word "self" by "class president" in the nuance given by "자부심." In creating this new word, not only did the Koreans succeed in accurately conveying the (annoying) characteristic of certain people, they also managed to slip in a bit of snideness into this expression. When someone is using a word of this type, they are definitely being sarcastic and making fun of someone.

 Or if your friend is an athelete ("운동선수," literally a competitor of sports) and always looks down on the less athletic people, you could say:

운동선수부심좀 그만 부려. (Stop being so cocky just because you're an athlete.)

If someone is a wine snob and doesn't let anyone forget it, you could say:

그 애는 와인부심이 너무 심해 (He has too much of a wine snobbery.)

And so on. People really do say it in real life, but be careful of overusing it, as it could really offend someone!

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#35. 월급루팡 -- A very very sweet job

This is a quick post because I am on a vacation! While I was packing for my vacation, I started thinking about how I still get paid from my job during the time that I'm away even though I am not really working, and how my job really is pretty sweet!

That being said, there are sweeter jobs online. Once I read about a software engineer who hired someone else at a lower price than his salary to do all of his work, and basically got free money for years before he was caught (due to security breech). I am sure there are other sweet jobs out there.

Koreans have a very specific word for this situation. For the software engineer above (or maybe even for myself!) they might say,

쟤는 월급루팡이야 (He/she just steals his/her salary.)

So the new word of the day is "월급루팡." You probably already know what "월급" means; it is just standard (and non-slang) Korean for "monthly salary." The interesting word here is "루팡."

"루팡," or Arsène Lupin, is a character in the classic French series who is a gentleman but also a thief. For most Koreans, Lupin is the natural archnemesis of Sherlock Holmes, and the name of Lupin is as well-known as the name of Holmes (but actually, if you read the Arsène Lupin series, he battles Herlock Sholmes, not Sherlock Holmes!)

Anyway, the word "월급루팡" means that the subject of this description is essentially stealing his salary (since they are getting their salary without doing anything!) I find it to be a cute usage, and something that I am doing right now, so I thought I would share this word with you.

As for the appropriateness, it's not particularly offensive, and I'd imagine that a lot of Koreans in their middle ages or younger would get the reference (I'm not sure if my grandma would, though!) It's informal, and although it's a combination of a Korean word and a French word, it doens't give the same level of vulgarity as a Korean+English combination (probably because fewer Koreans are familiar with French, so if you're trying to replace a Korean word by a French word, people can't decide if you're trying to be funny or trying to appear intelligent.) As always, don't use a word like this in a formal report!

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#34. 도배 -- Making sure that you get noticed (and hated, as a bonus)

If you wanted to get noticed in a large online community such as Reddit, what would you do?

I suppose if I were really desperate, I could try submitting the same post over and over again, just to make sure that it gets noticed.

Looks like there's an event going on where the owner of the website is choosing someone at random.

I suppose it works; but it's annoying, and most websites have some rules against repeat submissions. Korea is no exception; most communities have a rule forbidding its users from the act of "도배."

You might have noticed that many Korean houses have patterned walls, instead of simply painted walls. For whatever reasons, Koreans prefer to glue on patterned paper onto the wall. This paper is called "벽지" (where "벽" means "wall," and "지" is Chinese for "paper." You see this letter in "휴지 (toilet paper)," "폐지 (used paper)," "일간지 (daily papers)," etc.) And the act of gluing the 벽지 onto the wall is called "도배."

An example of the walls in a Korean house.

So, when someone keeps posting the same post over and over again, the person is covering the wall (as in the Facebook wall) with a patterned paper (in the form of repeated posts). In other words, he is committing the act of "도배." Other users might tell him,

도배하지 마세요 (don't cover up the wall).

In fact, many online communities have an explicit warning saying:

도배금지 (forbidden to cover up the wall).

Failure to follow this warning usually results in the webmasters blocking your ID (or even IP addresses in extreme cases!) from their websites, so don't do it!

This term is very specific to online activities, so it is naturally not used in real life.

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#32. 기승전 -- Always returning to the same topic

Here's a slightly nonstandard way to tell a compelling short story.

Start by introducing an attention-grabbing scene. For example, a hare makes fun of a tortoise for being slow. Immediately, we are annoyed with the hare, sympathize with the tortoise, and we are emotionally invested. We are setting the stage for the story to rise up to its full potential. In Korean, the Chinese letter "기" means "to rise." For example, "기립" means to "stand up," and "기상" means "to wake up."

You must then continue and develop the scene further, so that there is a story to it. The tortoise challenges the hare to a race. This is a story rather than a description, as it will have a clear ending to it, and it is more interesting than just a scene. In Korean, the Chinese letter "승" means "to continue, to relay." For example, "계승" means "to continue a lineage (for example, a prince becoming the king after his father dies is called 계승)."

An effective technique at this point is to talk about a completely different topic. For example, you describe all the beautiful flowers, feels the soft breeze, and the velvety grass. In Korean, the Chinese letter "전" means "to flip over." The word "반전" means "the event that is completely the opposite of what you might have expected."

Then you finish the story by connecting the two seemingly unrelated stories of "승" and "전." The hare then decides that it is time for a nap, and the tortoise is slow and steady, and wins the race. You get two stories in one, and so your conclusion is twice as powerful. In Korean, we call this "결," as in "결말" or "the end."

While these four letters are almost never used individually, this form of story-telling is called "기승전결." You can also use this for a slightly broader context, where "기승전결" just means "the form of story-telling." For example, you could say:

이 얘기는 기승전결이 너무 뻔하잖아 (this story is too cliché.)

You could also say

그 영화의 기승전결은 정말 신선했다. (that movie's story telling was very fresh/that movie had very fresh story-telling perspectives, etc.)

But then, there are people who never know when to let go of a certain topic. You see this the most often in children, although some adults also do this. Your 3-year-old niece might be obsessed with the latest Disney character, and demand that you buy her the doll at every possible moment.

You're having fun with your niece at the playground, when all of a sudden she runs over to you and ask for the doll. You're eating dinner with your niece, when she starts talking about her dream doll. You're walking down the street with her, when she tells you that you need to buy her that doll. You get the idea.

In Korean internet slang, you might say something like:

내 조카는 요즘 기승전인형이야.

The word "기승전인형" is very similar to "기승전결," but the letter "결" meaning "conclusion" has been replaced by "인형" meaning "doll." This neologism "기승전인형" literally means that no matter how the story is started and developed, the story ends with "인형," or a "doll." This perfectly describes your niece's condition, where she is so obsessed with getting that doll that regardless of the setting, she always returns to that topic.

You can replace "결" with pretty much anything imaginable. For example, for your friend who only cares about getting food, you could tell her that she is such a "기승전밥." For your parents who always pressure you to study, you tell them to stop being "기승전공부."

Aside from the slight sarcasm and the usual incomprehensibility issues for the very elderly who don't regularly go on the internet, you can use this word nearly anywhere informal.

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#31. Five slang words NOT to use if you want to appear cool

I decided to look around the internet for the English writings on the Korean slang today. And honestly, some of the posts that I found made me cringe. Not because they're incorrect, but because the slang that they introduced were so horribly outdated that even my parents wouldn't use them.

Korea is a very small country. There are very few major channels on TV, there are very few major TV series, and because the culture is reasonably homogeneous, everything spreads quickly. If a celebrity makes an appearance on TV and says something catchy, it could be the hot phrase the next day in all of Korea. Although some of these phrases and slang survive for years, some of them are very short-lived.

The following words are more or less dead. Unless you're trying to use them in an ironic way (for example, you are mocking someone for being old-fashioned), it is probably better to avoid the following words, as they are no longer in use.

• 당근: This word means "of course." In Korean, you would normally say "당연하지." Noticing that the first letter of "당연" and "당근" are the same, some people in the 2000s substituted "당근" and started saying "당근이지," or "당근" for "of course." This was very popular for a long time, but it slowly fell out of use, and is no longer used.
• 하이루: The Koreanization of the word "hi" would of course just be "하이." Back in the 90s, if someone greeted you with "하이," apparently you used to say "하이 too," which got shortened as "하이2 (2 = two = too phonetically)" and then "하이투." Sadly, the resolution wasn't the best back then, and the letters "투" and "루" looked very similar. Eventually "하이루" prevailed.
• 방가: This was often used in online chatting, if you wanted to say "nice to meet you," or "long time no see." The proper Korean would have been "반가워" or "반가워요," but since many Koreans pronounce these as "방가워" and "방가워요," this became popular in the 90s. When someone greeted you with "하이루," you always responded with "방가방가."
• 즐: "즐거운 하루 되세요" or "Have an enjoyable day" is a pretty standard formal goodbye. This gets used by salespeople, by automated machines, and also in games as you're logging out. In the mid-2000s, only the first letter of this word was used by the teens (usually in the chatrooms of online games) to wrap up a conversation. Eventually, it started getting used as "get lost," by dismissively typing out only the first letter of the formal goodbye.
• 안습: This word, also popular in the 2000s, is short for "안구에 습기차다." "안구" is a medical term for "eyeball," and "습기차다" means to "fog up" or "become humid." That is, this is a pretty fancy way of saying "I'm tearing up."

This of course makes Korean slang even trickier! The best way to stay on top of the slang game is to consume as much of the Korean culture as possible, so take some time to look around some of the largest internet communities of Korea, such as DC Inside, Today Humor, Ilbe (although this is politically charged and often shunned by many Koreans), Nate Pann, etc.

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#29. 관종 -- Craving attention

In English, we call them "attention whores." In real life, these people are willing to do anything to make sure that they are always in the centre of attention: they fake illnesses, and they scream, cry, and storm out in rage when they're not getting the attention they want. Online, they provoke by making outlandish statements, harass other users, and spread falsehoods.

In Korean, the word "attention" can be translated as "관심." The phrase "giving attention" is translated exactly in Korean as well, as "관심을 주다." You can use them in standard sentences such as

학생들에게 관심을 주면 그들은 더 빨리 발전해요 (If you give attention to the students, they improve more quickly.)

There are other phrases that are direct equivalents of English phrases. For example, "Not paying attention" is written in standard formal Korean as "관심을 주지 않다," simply negating the previous sentence. If the action of not paying attention is deliberate, you would probably use the word "ignore" in English, and "무시하다" in Korean.

If you pin down someone as an attention whore, and decide to no longer pay attention, however, you can say this in two ways in Korean. In a more standard Korean, you would say "더이상 (no longer) 관심을 주지 않다," but you can also say "관심을 끄다." This latter phrase is an informal slang that has been around for a long time, which translates as "turn off your attention."

Moving towards the more recent slang, the attention whores of Korea go by several names, all of which are pretty offensive and are only really good for the internet, or for your worst enemies whom you're looking to pick a fight with. You can call them:

• 관심병자, where you compare the attention-seeking behaviour to an "attention (관심) disease (병)." As "자" means a "person," a "관심병자" is a person who is suffering from the malaise of attention.
• 관심종자. A "종자" is a breed of an animal. Instead of just calling people out on their compulsion to seek attention (which is actually a thing; for example, people suffering from histrionic disorder often engage in attention-seeking behaviour,) this word actually groups all of these attention whores together and label them as a breed of an animal. Needless to say, this word is more derogatory than "관심병자," where you're at least treated like a human being!
• 관종. Koreans really like to shorten compound words, and it is often done by taking the first letter of each of the words that form the compound word. In this case, 관심종자 is made up of two words, "관심" and "종자," so take the first letters from each word to get "관종." This has the effect of making the word even more informal, and somehow it is even more degrading since you can't even be bothered to spell out the whole word.

There are many ways to call out a 관종 on the web. You could call them out directly by saying

관종짓 하지 마라. (Don't engage "하지마라" in the behaviour "짓"  that seeks attention "관종".)

You could also insult them indirectly to the other users online about this troll, and say

관종이 또 한 마리 나타났네 (It seems that another attention whore appeared).

Note the use of the counter "마리," which is never used for counting people (it is only for animals!), but since "관종" compares people to animals, using this counter enables you to insult the attention whore further.

Or you could also use a liberal amount of sarcasm, and say

옛다, 관심 (Here you go, some attention for you).

"옛다" is an old Korean word meaning "here you go" or "voilà/tiens," when an older person is giving something (not very valuable) to a younger person as a favour. For example, if your grandfather were giving you a piece of chocolate, he might say "옛다, 초콜렛 먹어라." But if he were giving you a gold necklace, he probably would not say this.

While it is no longer really used in real life, this word signifies that you are doing them a small favour because they really crave your attention. It further signifies that it is not a huge deal for you to turn your attention to them for a little bit. Since they are usually trying pretty hard to grab all the attention that they can, this phrase belittles all of their efforts, and insults them in a slightly different way (by making them realize how childish they are being, and how you're basically indulging them for a moment.) You see these phrases a lot in internet forums, where a lot of trolls are known to appear.

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#28. 호구 -- The giving tree

I have already talked about how the game of Go (바둑) is nationally loved by the Koreans in a previous post. In case you have never tried playing it, the game works as follows. Two players, one playing black stones and the other white stones, take turns placing one stone each on the game board. The object is to surround as much territory on the game board as possible with your stones. When your stones is surrounded completely by your enemy's stones, they are captured by your enemy.

Here, the black stone in the centre is completely surrounded by white stones, so it will be captured and removed.

There are certain basic formations of stones that everyone should recognize. The following is the most basic formation:

As the white player, you never want to place your stone in position A, because then the black player will surely place her next stone in position B and capture your stone in position A. The position A is a dangerous, forbidden territory for the white player. Every 바둑 player is expected to recognize this formation, and as it is so basic and common-sense, it is even given a name. This formation of stones is called a "호구."

The letter "호" comes from the Chinese letter meaning a "tiger." This is the same letter that appears in the Korean word "호랑이" meaning tiger.

The letter "구" comes from the Chinese letter meaning "mouth." For example, "대구 (cod)" is called this in Korean because a cod has a really big mouth, and "대" means "large." "이목구비" literally means "ear, eye, mouth, and nose," or in other words, the components of your face.

Anyway, the above Go formation is called a "호구" or a "tiger's mouth," because the formation looks a bit like the open mouth of a tiger (if you don't see it, think about Pacman.) Placing your stone inside the open mouth is as dangerous as a tiger's mouth, because you will almost surely lose your stone, just like how you would almost surely lose your hand if you placed it inside a tiger's mouth.

But then, there are those people in life. The kind of people who do stupid things, knowing that they will probably lose out by doing these things. But they do it anyway. You probably know some of those people. The dude who does everything that he can for his girlfriend (who treats him terribly) knowing full well that he will one day get dumped (From the girl's point of view, he is the opposing player who keeps putting stone after stone into the 호구, almost like an open wallet.) That girl who always buys people lunch although no one ever reciprocates.

Nowadays, both online and offline (although it probably originated online), we call these people "호구" (to be completely precise, they shouldn't be called "호구" but rather, the opposing player who places their stones inside the 호구, but sometimes meanings get lost in favour of brevity.) So for that dude who can't seem to stop giving to his terrible girlfriend, you might want to say something like:

그 여자는 널 호구취급해. (She treats you like an open wallet.)

To the girl who buys everyone's lunch all the time, you might say:

니가 호구니? 정신차려. (Wake up, you're not the giving tree.)

Of course, there is some distinction to be made between generosity and being taken advantage of. The word "호구" is only used in this latter case.

Furthermore, since the word comes from 바둑, even the elderly should be able to guess its meaning. So you can try out this word to pretty much any Korean, save for a very formal setting (such as writing a report, or when you're meeting the boss of your boss).

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#27. 죽빵 -- Punch them in the face

I love comic books. These are great to wind down a busy day with, because you don't have to do a lot of work to enjoy them. No need to imagine the scenes in my head, because they're already drawn in. And there is something inherently funny about the onomatopoeia that get used in comic books. I would never say "KAPOW" or "BLAM" or "ZAP" in real life, but I kind of wish that everyone would start using these words more often, because these words are so lively and full of dynamic energy, with a touch of vulgarity.

It turns out that the Koreans are actually better at using these words in real life. Sure, they shouldn't be used in formal settings. But to me, these words add a bit of slapstick spark to our lives when they do get used.

Here are a couple of Korean onomatopoeia that you will see in comic books, or 만화.

First is the word "주욱," which you might recognize better by its variations such as "주우욱," "주우우우욱," "쭉," "쭈욱," etc. This word means to reach out. For example, if a cartoon character was stretching, there might be the word "주욱" written in the background. Since you're reaching out, it sometimes makes sense to write out the longer version of the word such as "주우우우우욱" to describe the length of the stretch and the reach.

This word also gets used in everyday Korean, in contexts such as "주욱 뻗은 길" meaning "the (straight) road that stretches way out," or "쭉 뻗은 나무" meaning "the tall (straight) tree."

The second onomatopoeia doesn't need a lot of explanation; the word is "빵." Although I have just said that "빵" is an adjective for well-inflated objects, there is one other meaning for it. When you hit someone, "빵" is the sound you make.

So when you use these two words together to create a new slang "죽빵," first of all, it is vulgar (not in a profanity type way, but in the comic-book informality), and it means that you are reaching out (죽) to hit (빵). Well, when you reach out to hit, you usually end up punching people squarely in the face. It's slightly entertaining that you can count these things, and the unit of count is "대." So one 죽빵 is "죽빵 한 대," and two 죽빵 is "죽빵 두 대," etc.

When you dish out a 죽빵 to someone.

Remembering that we are using a comic book-style word, so whenever you use it, it's definitely going to be funny. So it's used mostly in an exaggerated way. For example, if your little brother is being annoying, you might threaten him by saying:

나한테 죽빵 한 대 맞고싶어?  (Do you want to get punched in the face?)

 If your friend 준호 accidentally hit you in the face, you might rant to your other friends about how you got beaten up by your friend by saying,

방금 준호가 나한테 죽빵을 날렸어 (준호 flew a 죽빵 at me; 준호 punched me in the face.)

If you got involved in a bar fight, and managed to get in a good one before you got broken up,  you might later brag to your friends by saying:

어제 싸우면서 죽빵 한 대 갈겼어 (I landed a 죽빵 last night in a fight.)

Note that various verbs describe the act of landing a 죽빵. As it was never a proper word to begin with, you can choose the verbs that seems to go well with the context. Even if it were not used previously, if the Koreans agree with you that the verb was appropriate, maybe it'll even catch on! As always, the important thing in Korean internet slang is to experiment, and to be creative.

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#25. 포돌이 -- This wonderful Korean character has no parallel

Once upon a time, the Koreans got tired of the negative public image of the Korean police force. In order to ensure that the Koreans could perceive the police force as friendly and approachable, the Korean police force decided to re-brand themselves by creating a mascot. Below is the culmination of their efforts.

This adorable character's name is 포돌이 (the letter "포" comes from "police," and "돌이" is a suffix to describe an affectionate male nickname. For example, if you have a friend who eats ("먹다") all the time, you call him "먹돌이"; if someone sleeps ("잠자다") all the time, you call him "잠돌이". For women, use the suffix "-순이" instead of "-돌이" to get "포순이," "먹순이," and "잠순이.")  He looked cute, he looked friendly, and it seemed that the re-branding efforts would be a total success.

However, the police officials neglected to take one thing into account.

They forgot that they lived in Korea.

There was no way that the fun-loving Koreans would leave this character alone. First came pictures like below from the (presumably) part-time workers taking a break from masquerading in the 포돌이 costume:

They definitely look approachable, at least if you just need a cigarette.

However, the real boost in the status of the mascot came from a very unlikely place even within the internet culture. Here is a portion of the webtoon that brought 포돌이 to the elevated status that it enjoys today. This webtoon is extracted from a horror series called "공부하기 좋은 날" (A good day for studying). Its episodes often feature a dark motif or a ghost. The artist of this webtoon is renowned for his horrifying images that are sure to haunt you in the dark, especially if you try to sleep too soon after reading one of his episodes. I hesitate to prove my claim with real examples, but here are two connecting episodes that illustrate a typical work of this artist. WARNING: DO NOT CLICK IF YOU ARE NOT INTO HORROR. You will have no trouble understanding the rest of the post even if you do not read these. Here is installment #1, and installment #2.

Here are the summary of each of the episodes to ease the Korean translation. Drag your mouse over the blank space to reveal the spoilers:

Installment #1: A freelancer mother and her son move to a new apartment. The son loves the new apartment, and visits the playground in front of their house daily to play with his new friends. At first the mother does not worry since she can see and hear the playground from their house. but she comes to the realization that she can only hear her son's voice and no one else's.
Installment #2: When the mother looks out, she sees no one in the playground. In a panic, she goes outside to find her son, only to find him in front of their apartment returning to do his homework. When she interrogates him about no one else being in the playground, he says that everyone else left to do their homework too. She tries to see if the playground is cursed, but no one knows anything about it. That night, in her dream, she dreams that her son is going out to the playground to play again. She opens the curtain to see the playground only to see a terrifying figure appear in front of her window and faints. When she realizes that everything was a dream, she breathes a sigh of relief, only to realize that her son was the terrifying figure, and that it was not a dream.

This particular episode seemed like it was no different. A student begins by ranting about the reality of the high school English education in Korea:

The English classes are useless. Exactly what kind of abilities do they hope to measure by an English test?
It is impossible to measure the speaking skills, and one could maybe test whether some words or grammar points are memorized.
That's why one cannot be good at English through the classes provided at school. High school English is merely memorizing words, grammar, and sentences.

I won't succumb to such terrible curriculum. The society wants nothing more than good grades. That is, I just need to do well on the tests!!

By the way, the student's soliloquy aligns quite well with how the Korean students often feel about school subjects. They are not the most effective ways to learn, but as the school grades are so important in the university entrance exam, they have no choice but to follow the curriculum to get good grades. After all, the society cares only about good grades!

So the student decides to sneak into the teachers' office one night, and steal the exam papers in advance.

 

If you are a fan of this particular artist, this is the point where you nearly close your eyes and scroll very slowly, because this is about the point where a very horrifying ghost figure appears. It could be the ghost of a student who killed himself because of bad grades, it could be the ghost of a school caretaker rumoured to be roaming the school grounds punishing the bad students, etc. However...

Well, 포돌이 can be just as terrifying.

Don't cheat, people.

These last two cuts became quite famous in the Korean internet culture, because the irony in these scenes were too great. The contrast of the outrageously cheerful face of 포돌이 against the dark mood, along with the fact that a student is being arrested, was pure hilarity. To this day, these cuts are used over and over again in the internet culture, and 포돌이 became a real celebrity!

I end with one more related word: "철컹철컹." To many Koreans, this word should remind you of 포돌이 (the creepy version, I suppose). This is because "철컹철컹" is an onomatopoeia for the clang of metal, or in our case, the clang of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. You will see this word appear when an internet user makes not-safe-for-work sexual remarks, especially in the context that might remind people of child pornography. Although the internet users are sending a serious warning towards the target, they are also reminding themselves of the cheerfully creepy face of 포돌이. Some people prefer to use the phrase "잡았다 요놈," or "I got you, you rascal," which is something 포돌이 might say, as he slaps those handcuffs on you. Both words are fairly humorous in nuance, although it is a word definitely reserved for close friends, or for the internet.

All jokes aside, 포돌이 is still the leading face of the Korean police force. As far as the re-branding efforts go, I would say that he is a huge success, as no other mascot has the popularity of 포돌이. And although we will never know what life would have been like without 포돌이, I like to think that he contributed to changing the image of the Korean police force.

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#24. 팩트폭행 -- The truth hurts

Believe it or not, according to the reports of the Korean internet users, the following conversation is said to have taken place in a Korean school during a history class.

Student: It really is too bad that polygamy is no longer a thing.
Teacher: Actually, you should be grateful that polygamy is no longer accepted.
Student: ???
Teacher: If we still practiced polygamy, you would never be able to marry because people like 송중기 will have 100 wives each.

This is 송중기, a very popular Korean actor.

Okay, that hurts, but that's also probably true, and that student definitely got pwned by his teacher, so to speak. His friends probably made fun of him after the history class was over, and they might have said something like:

선생님한테 팩트폭행 당했네 (You got pwned by the teacher bluntly telling you the truth.)

The word "팩트폭행" is made up of two parts, "팩트" and "폭행." The first word is the Koreanization of the English word "fact," and the second word means "assault."

To go a little bit deeper into the nuance of the second word, it is a pretty official word, as if you are charged with the assault of someone, you would be charged with "폭행죄" ("죄" means "sin" or "crime" -- as Christianity came into Korea fairly late, the word "죄" is used for both legal and religious contexts.)

As for the word "폭행," it has Chinese origins. The letter "폭" means violent (for example, "폭풍" means violent winds, or "storm"; "폭식" means to violently eat, or "binge-eat"; "폭행" is a violent "폭"action "행", or "assault.)

Putting these two words together, "팩트폭행" means that you have been violently assaulted by the means of the truth, which is a pretty accurate description of what happened in that history class. You can replace "폭행" with other words that describe violent actions, and get words such as "팩트폭력 (폭력 also means violent assault, but it pertains more to the bullying-type assaults, where one side is decidedly stronger)", "팩트폭격 (a bombardment of facts)," and so on.

Also remember that it is usually the case that when a new word is made by combining an English word and a Korean word (such as in 발퀄, 이불킥, or 프로 불만러) the resulting word is almost always pretty humorous. This is another instance of this claim, so there's definite sense of amusement and humour when you are using this word in a sentence. As usual, this word originated from the internet, and although not inherently offensive, I would play it safe and use this word only with my friends.

Finally, Koreans like to shorten words, especially if it's made up of multiple words. In our case, since "팩트폭행" is made up of two words "팩트" and "폭행," you will often see Koreans shorten this word to "팩폭" by just using the first letter of each word, especially on the internet. Since the Korean slang is very quickly evolving, it is actually not so easy for even a native Korean to guess the meaning of these shortened forms of words without looking them up! But then, it's kind of fun to try and guess what they mean as well.

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#23. 넘사벽 -- Try as you might

Superstitious people are everywhere. In North America, 13 is considered unlucky (I'm not really sure why; maybe because there were 13 people at the table during the last supper) and you sometimes see the 13th floor missing entirely from high-rise buildings.

In Korea, the number to avoid (along with 13, because why not) is four. This is because the number four, pronounced "사" in Korean, sounds exactly like the Chinese character 死 meaning death (for example, "사형" means the capital punishment, "사신" means the messenger of death, "사약" means the poisonous drink that people were required to drink in the olden days when they were given the death penalty). So in many Korean buildings, both the fourth and the thirteenth floors are missing.

Anyway, there's a Korean internet slang word "넘사벽." It is often used in the context such as this: Say that you figure skate as a hobby, and a friend compliments you on your skating skills, going as far as saying things like how you skate like the famous Yuna Kim (김연아.) Then you are embarrassed because you're not actually that good, and you say something like, "Oh, I will never even come close to catching up to Yuna Kim." In Korean, you could say:

김연아는 넘사벽이야.

If you were chatting on the internet, you might have typed instead:

 김연아 >>>>>>>넘사벽>>>>>> 나 (Yuna Kim >>>> 넘사벽 >>>>> me.)

When I first heard the word in a sentence, it was clear that the word "넘사벽" was clearly a shortened form, because I didn't see how to break up "넘사벽" into different words. Before reading on, try to guess what this word means -- it wasn't completely obvious to me, even as a native speaker (and the exact meaning of the catchiest internet slang can usually be interpreted!)
 

The famous skater Yuna Kim, whom every Korean can recognize.

From the context, it seemed obvious that the word "넘사벽" should mean "incomparable," or "way beyond my abilities." But in the word "넘사벽," I only recognized one word inside it, namely "벽" or "wall." Combined with the context, it felt like the word should come from the well-known phrase "넘을수 없는 벽" or "insurmountable wall."

That took care of the letters "넘" and "벽," but where did the letter "사" come from? At this point, I was left completely on my own to take a stab in the dark. My guess was that the letter "사" came from "death," combining to suggest that the word "넘사벽" means "a wall that you can't overcome, even if you died trying." Satisfied with this meaning, I happily went about my way around the Korean internet world (and I suppose you could use this word with anyone, since it's not offensive and the meaning is guessable.)

A few years later, though, I learned that the original intended meaning of "넘사벽" was not a wall that you cannot overcome even in death, but actually a shortened form of "넘을수 없는 사차원의 벽," or "an insurmountable four-dimensional wall."

Oh well. I was a little bit off, but I wasn't the only one, and many Koreans guessed that the letter "사" came from "death" rather than "four." Plus, the meaning still wasn't lost. Such is the way of the Korean internet slang.

Apparently, this word presented more of a challenge to some than the others, though. Some people thought that this word meant "넘을수 없는 사랑의 벽," or "an insurmountable wall of love," but that really shouldn't have made sense from the context (although it would be pretty hilarious in the right context!) In any case, I thought you might enjoy seeing how a native Korean speaker goes about figuring out the new slang word that they encounter on the internet (and get it wrong!)

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#22. 만렙 -- You're the best

I was an elementary school student in Korea in the late 90s and early 2000s, when Starcraft was just gaining its popularity. I was never a teen in Korea, and I was more interested in comic books and cute K-pop boy bands, so I never played Starcraft. Despite this, I heard about Starcraft daily from my classmates. If we were to form groups for some projects, our group name was invariably going to be Protoss or Terran, or some variation thereof (apparently, Zergs were too ugly to be considered a good name!) I listened to my classmates brag about their actions per minute, or the latest strategy, and none of this was strange to me. It was a bit of a shock to realize that the gamers were fairly rare in the Western world, when practically everyone in Korea could be considered a gamer.

Well, gamers naturally end up spending a ton of time on the internet, so when most of your population is a gamer, gamer lingo is sure to seep into your internet slang. Now that I reflect on it, I am surprised that I managed to avoid talking about the gamer slang for the majority of my posts so far. The only words coming from gamer language so far would be "항마력" and "용자."

But here is another word that clearly comes from the gaming culture.

When I was living in Korea, I had a friend who never got anything other than 100% on her math exams. Although this expression did not exist then, if I see her now, I'd want to tell her that:

넌 정말 수학에 있어서는 만렙이다. (As far as math is concerned, you are really the best.)

The slang here is the word "만렙." The word "렙" is a shortened form for "레벨," or "level (as in, the level of a game; the Koreans never use it like in the sentence 'level the ground.')" Koreans really like to shorten words, and this is just one instance of such contraction. So for example, in gaming language, if someone has just started playing and has pretty low stats, you could call them "0렙 (level 0)," "1렙 (level 1)," or "저렙 (low level; "저" is a Chinese letter meaning "low," as in "저지대 (low-lying area)," "저원 (low-lying field)," or "저퀄리티 (low quality)")." In contrast, someone who has high stats can be called "고렙 (high level; "고" is a Chinese letter meaning "high," as in "고지대," "고원," "고퀄리티," etc.)"

The word "만" comes from Chinese, and it means "full." The most common usage you see in Korea, of course, is how the Koreans count their age. When the Koreans want to talk about their age in the Western sense (where you age one year when you have lived out a full year), they will say:

제 나이는 만으로 스물 두 살이에요 (I have lived twenty-two years in full; I'm 22 in the Western sense.)

Putting the above two words together, "만렙" means that your stats are full; that is, there is no room to improve. So, if I were telling my friend that she is "만렙" in math, I'm telling her that no one is better than her in math, and that she pretty much has nowhere to improve. In short, I am giving her the highest compliment.

You can also use this word in the gaming setting (or any situation that reminds you of a gaming setting.) When someone achieves the highest level in a game, the correct way to use this slang is to use the verb "만렙을 찍다." For example, you can say:

너 어제 만렙 찍었다면서? (I heard that you got to the final level yesterday.)

Unfortunately, this word has such strong gamer origins that it is inappropriate to use in a formal setting (although no one would be offended by it, it would be pretty strange to use this to your grandparents, for example!) But it's a widespread word nonetheless, and given the affinity to video games in Korea, most people who use the internet will understand the word!

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#20. 안드로메다 -- What is this, I don't even

So, I'm in the process of experimenting with my blog's layout. I'm not convinced that what I have now is better than what I had before, but it turns out that HTML is difficult to learn, and no template perfectly fits my dream. I'm going to continue to experiment for the next while, so if my blog is out of order, please visit again in a few minutes! Also soliciting any kind of advice and help that you can give on how to make my blog more readable, and more navigate-able (leave them in the comments below!) This is my first time blogging and I think the inexperience is definitely showing. Sigh. I promise that I'll improve. I also got a Twitter account! You can follow my Twitter account here.

Moving onto the actual post...

For some weird reason, every Korean knows about the Andromeda galaxy. This knowledge of the Andromeda galaxy is such a staple in our everyday life that there is even a neologism to honour this galaxy. In everyday Korean conversations, "안드로메다" means "very far away." For example, I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, who used the following brilliant exaggeration:

여가시간은 안드로메다로 관광보냈지 (I sent my free time on a trip to the Andromeda galaxy.)

 She was trying to tell me that she was so busy that her free time could have gone on a trip to the Andromeda galaxy, and she wouldn't know. So by sending something on a trip to the Andromeda galaxy, the speaker is telling me that she has none of that something, in a very strong negation. Just saying that "I have no free time" is nowhere as strong as "All of my free time is having some fun in the Andromeda galaxy."

 Knowing this, we can try using it in many different contexts. If someone cuts the line in front of you while you're waiting for the metro, you could tell them:

이봐요, 매너는 안드로메다로 관광보냈어요? (Hey, are your manners having fun on the Andromeda galaxy?)

If you're about to go into a haunted castle with your friends, and you want to appear tough, you could tell your friends:

무서움 따위는 안드로메다로 보내버렸지 (I sent my fear away to the Andromeda galaxy.)

If you feel that Andromeda is a teensy bit too far for what you're trying to say (because, who is not scared of going into the haunted castle, really?), you could maybe settle for not necessarily the Andromeda galaxy, but just out of our own galaxy, which is the Milky Way galaxy. You could have said instead:

무서움 따위는 은하수 너머로 보내버렸지 (I sent my fear away beyond the Milky Way.)

 Again, you could be creative and replace the Andromeda galaxy by other things that are sufficiently far away (Jupiter, Pluto, or Asteroid XXIV, whatever it is, are all good candidates, as are a bunch of other things).

While this expression is not offensive at all (you would sometimes see this expression in some TV shows), because of the gross exaggeration, I would not say that this is necessarily appropriate for the elders.

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#15. 낚시, 떡밥 -- Trolling, or fishing for reaction

The anonymity of the internet sometimes tempts us to do strange things. We are safe to prank people, we can mock people, and we can get involved in a fight. What's the worst that could happen? Some people might get mad at us, but all we have to do is turn off the computer, and all that is behind us. In the anglophone culture, we call this type of behaviour "trolling."

There are two theories for the origin of this word.

The first hypothesis is that these internet rogues are named after the Scandinavian monster "troll" that is often hostile and aggressive. I am all for this hypothesis -- what a wonderful way to describe that dark corner of our minds that propel us to do strange things on the internet!

The second hypothesis is equally compelling as the first. It says that "trolling" came from the word "trawling," which means to drag the net in the ocean to catch the fish. This is exactly what the trolls do on the internet. Stir up the vast ocean of the internet in hopes of getting lots of reactions from other internet users.

Shockingly, although Korean is completely disconnected from English in terms of linguistics, the Korean word for "trolling" comes from an identical background as its English counterpart. If you wanted to see if someone was trolling on the internet, you might say "Are you trolling?" In Korean slang, the appropriate thing to say would be:

낚시하냐?

"낚시" is Korean for "fishing," so it seems that the Korean internet users decided that the second hypothesis for the origins of "trolling" was more appropriate, or at least, more humorous (It often seems to be the case that the most important requirement for a successful Korean internet slang word is in its humour, so the second hypothesis is just so much more promising!) When you're intentionally trolling, you can use the verb "낚다" or "to fish" to say things like "오늘도 한번 낚아볼까?" (shall I try to fish people again today?)

When the Koreans have fallen into a clever trap, they tend to acknowledge the humour in the situation, and concede defeat by saying "낚였다" (you have fished me). When the Koreans spot someone successfully being fished by another internet user, they sometimes write "파닥파닥," which is an onomatopoeia that describes the sound that a freshly caught fish makes, to mock the hapless victim.

The Korean internet users might upload pictures like this to mock those who reacted to the trolling.

When a particular user is particularly skilled at trolling the other users, he might be dubbed "강태공." This 강태공 (강 is his last name, and 태공 is his governmental title, similar to a marquis) was a very gifted Chinese politician who helped King Wen overthrow the Shang dynasty and establish the Zhou dynasty. However, he waited for years for King Wen to recognize his talent and to hire him, by studying politics on his own in the countryside, and fishing in the nearby river to provide for himself.

And just like in English, if some internet user seems to be looking to muddy up the waters (we would probably call that "baiting," as in "clickbait,") the Koreans would say "떡밥을 뿌리다," or "scatter the bait." When someone reacts to the bait, this is described as "떡밥을 물다," or "take a bite out of the bait."

Staying true to the original analogy, though, the word "떡밥" now means any material that has the potential to stir up a reaction among the others. These two words, "낚시" and "떡밥" have become so commonplace that they even left the internet. In particular, "떡밥" is often used in dramas or webtoons, when an episode introduces a new element that has the potential to significantly impact the future events.

For example, suppose that your favourite drama ended by zooming in on a mysterious new character. This is definitely a bait that lures you to watch the next episode, to find out who this new character is. The Koreans would say, "떡밥만 뿌리고 끝나네," meaning "they just baited us and ended the episode." When all loose ends are tied up and all conflicts cleared, the Koreans would say "떡밥 회수 완료," or "the collection of all bait has been completed." On some of the comments, you might see some Koreans begging the writers or producers to tie up all the loose ends, by saying, "떡밥은 언제 회수하실겁니까?" (when will you take back all the bait?) or "아직 떡밥이 너무 많이 남았네" (still a lot of bait remains.)

All of the above expressions, although still slang, is not particularly offensive, and you could probably use it with anyone (but avoid using these at very formal occasions, just in case!)

Finally, the Koreans also use the "troll" analogy as well, although it is not as extensive as the fishing analogy. There is a word called "병먹금," which just takes the first letters of the phrase "병신 먹이 금지" (idiot feeding forbidden). It quite literally means, "Don't feed the trolls!" This expression is a bit more offensive, since "병신" (in the literal sense, it means a cripple, although most of the time it's more natural to interpret it as an idiot) is nested squarely in the swear word category. The word "병먹금" really is only for the internet!

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