i was curious about the origin of 'stocks' as a fandom term too so i investigated namuwiki and no it didnt start from DoD! however it doesnt say exactly when it started circulating so... the mystery remains
oooh thanks for the sleuthing, anon!
At least from this, it seems that the whole concept of "idol stocks" being used in reality TV in Debut or Die may be fandom pun based concept, and not coming out nowhere, which is interesting.
6 Korean Series to Watch on Netflix – Courtesy (Netflix)
It is known that Netflix offers titles made in different countries of the world, and in recent years South Korea has become one of the great producers of this platform, with productions that feature very interesting storylines, ideal for a good marathon, therefore, here we show you 6 of these series not to be missed.
Woo, extraordinary…
“My singers” travel around taking planes like buses. My own feelings are at fault for thinking they look better abroad. If there’s a local concert, we laugh bitterly at ourselves in a half-joking half-serious manner, saying “Our singers are coming to Korea for a visit.”
The singer sings sweetly, that “We’re so lucky, it’s such a relief to have been born in the same country, and we speak the same language” (from EXO-K’s “Lucky”). However, even if they have been born in the same country and speak the same language, the fans are singing a mixed song of “Oh dear, it’s meaningless.” Are the words of Yeoeuido’s pastor right, saying that “If someone has more to offer, if someone gives more, obtaining something is right if you claim the evidence of love?” Purchasing power for the Japanese fans, the sheer size for the Chinese fans: When you get left behind because of that, the Korean fans often end up being pushed back.
Of course, we understand the position that you have to start working from the bottom to raise the awareness when you go abroad even if you have joined the top star ranks in the local market. It is impossible not to know that there are income limits if you focus only on the Korean market. The illegal album records market in China is in its full swing, but you can attain the “economy of scale” with performances, CF deals, and events. If you think about the absurdly small local album market (compared to the Japanese one) and the irrational local digital sites profit distribution, were I a head of the company, I wouldn’t be able to stop the idols from taking a plane.
However, sometimes I don’t know whether I like a Korean singer or a foreign singer when the good seats from a performance get sold out to the foreign fans as tourism deal packages or when they organize events for the foreign fans only (I’m not asking for a special treatment of Korean fans. I’m just saying I can also pay that money for that seat, so give me a chance to buy it too!). It’s to the point that if there’s a local concert, we laugh bitterly at ourselves in a half-joking half-serious manner, saying “Our singers are coming to Korea for a visit.” However, the fans who live in the capital are okay. Lately, even if the idols have a world tour, they don’t do the nation-wide tour, so I think it wouldn’t be surprising if the fans in the provinces would come to think that their singers were just hologram images.
Aren’t the Korean and overseas concerts the same? Of course, my own feelings would be at fault for this, but when you see the photos that are uploaded real-time; your heart gets torn apart when you notice that they seem to be a lot prettier than in Korea. When the reserved member suddenly goes into a “cute” mode you haven’t seen at home or when someone cries, you clutch at the monitor with “Ah… why I’m not in China… why I’m not in Japan…” What’s the use of all those news articles about tens of thousands of fans gathered at venue, singing along to Korean songs, our idols supposedly “enhancing the national prestige?” I’m not one of those tens of thousands.
Even so, it’s a relief we have been born in Korea… “Local fan’s” pride
Even if my singers take a plane like a bus, if they receive appropriate treatment and reputation locally, rather it’s a good thing. Lately, another point was added to my list of reasons why I say “My loves, don’t cross that sea” with the award ceremonies being held abroad. I couldn’t help but sigh automatically when the stage would turn into a chaos because of poor management, or when I witnessed a spectacle of certain members not even being able to participate because of visa problems. Singers who spent their precious time preparing the show, the fans who purchased costly tickets to attend the ceremony, the fans who worked hard on voting – everyone were hurt. At times like these I can’t help but feel resentment, thinking for what and for whom this K-pop craze exists.
However, the last fortification that allows us to have the victory of mind is the truth that “we have been born in the same country, and we speak the same language.” Even if the variety producers don’t put subtitles, if a funny comment drowns in other members’ voices, with the native speaker’s intuition we can capture “our baby’s” voice like ghosts. It might be childish, but the ability to sympathize immediately and laugh along when someone spits out a peculiar world play that couldn’t be translated automatically (or the English explanation would not salvage that particular feeling) – that’s the Korean fan’s pride. Please understand the feeling of wanting to find consolation at least in that. I’m saying this because if we didn’t do even that, then it would really be it.
*T/N: The title of the article is a play on the title of a movie that has recently become the most commercially successful Korean documentary. My Love, Don't Cross That River.
People have often asked me what Korean fan-fics are like. I saw this snippet on my timeline on Saturday, and thought it could serve as a good example. Credits for writing go to 0430yesir.
The phone was vibrating for the 3rd time already when Junho quickly dashed out of the bathroom stall.
The screen was flashing with a familiar number and name. Thinking that the impression of the gradually growing vibration could be blamed on his mood, he caught his breath and answered the phone. Junho swallowed his saliva suddenly imagining the face of the person calling.
“Yes, hello.”
“Where are you.”
The voice didn’t sound bad. If anything, it was on the better side.
“What d’you mean where. Home, of course. Where’re you at?”
Checking out his own reflection in the mirror, Junho lightly trimmed his hair.
“In front of your house.”
“…”
The hand on the side of his head froze. His head ordered him to keep on talking naturally, but Junho’s mouth just gaped open. Let me see you. Open the door. The person on the other end said as he didn’t get any reply. The voice over the phone was definitely a lot lower than before. Junho had a thought then. He was screwed.
“… I’m kind of bathing now, so…”
“Come on, we’ve done it together before. Open the door.”
The bathing excuse was swiftly turned down. It’s been ages since they’ve bathed together. Junho was taken aback as whatever he would’ve said would’ve been worthless. Wooyoung clearly had mentioned he would be pulling an all-nighter at the company today, working. So Junho simply relaxed and came to the club, but right now he wanted to hang up the phone and scream. Why!! Why!!
“Oh, ffu…”
Finally, the dumbstruck Junho managed to spit out an overused consonant, tearing his hair out. Ff, fffuuuuu, Jang Wooyoung, you crazy bastard! Wooyoung must’ve found Junho funny because he chuckled. Getting all riled up, Junho punched the sink twice. As if being able to read Junho’s mind, who seriously considered hanging up and running away, Wooyoung uttered in a still amused, but low voice:
“If you hang up on me, you’re dead. Where’re you at, you son of a bitch.”