Korea's Lovebug Crisis

When I was a kid, I was always puzzled by the phrase “you’re a lovebug”. There wasn’t any new vocabulary I needed to learn, or the phrase’s definition. But I always found the literal sense of the phrase hard to visualize. I didn’t know what a lovebug looked like; I always assumed that it would look like any other insect I’d seen. That was until I found a few dozen of them stuck to my hair on a Thursday afternoon at school. I mistook them for cockroaches at first, but when I saw their urge to fly, and their odd nature of travelling in pairs, I googled “flies shaped like cockroaches that fly in pairs”, and “lovebug” was the first word that popped up on screen.

I assumed that since they had not done anything foul to my hair, they were harmless creatures. I also surmised that since they have each other, they would not really mingle with other lovebug couplets, at least to a large degree. But shortly after I returned to Korea for the summer, I came across a surprising sight involving lovebugs across social media as well as the news. There weren't just a few dozen of these bugs in these images, but a whole, thick carpet of lovebugs enveloping every inch of the most popular hiking trails in the Seoul metropolitan area. Now, I knew that lovebugs liked travelling in groups. But what had gone into these bugs, or rather what had happened around them, that made them gather to such immense numbers?

My first step into this investigation was the habitat in which these bugs resided. Looking back, through my eight years of living in central Seoul, I had never witnessed the sight of lovebugs in such numbers, let alone their presence. I knew that there had to be some changes made to their original residence that forced them onto the Korean peninsula. 

Lovebugs thrive in warm climates. They are an endemic species to East Asia’s subtropical islands, such as Taiwan and southern Japan, such as the Ryukyu Islands. Lovebugs are also well-known natives of southeastern China, where there are similar conditions to Asia’s subtropics. In the United States, lovebugs can be found in the southeastern states, such as Florida, Mississippi, and Louisiana. 

These bugs are not a new problem for South Korea. Koreans have seen lovebugs before; the first sighting of lovebugs was in 2015, according to the Ministry of the Environment. Lovebug populations have steadily increased, more specifically after the pandemic. But there must be a reason why they are literally piling on both the metropolitan area and into the mountains near Incheon. Why are lovebugs moving North, and why now?

The answer to this question is fairly simple. Lovebugs, judged by their previous habitats, love warm and humid conditions. As climate change continues to affect the world’s climate, including South Korea’s, lovebugs find the increase in temperature and the ample amount of humidity in Korea’s early summer months is perfect for mating and reproduction. 

Korea underwent major temperature increases in the year of 2024. According to the Korean Meteorological Administration, the average temperature last year was 14.5 degrees Celsius, the country’s hottest year on record. More importantly, the temperature of hot summer nights (called “tropical nights” among Koreans) was at a minimum of 25 degrees Celsius, again the hottest on record. Data has shown that Korea has been relatively warm all year round, and especially warmer during the summer. 

But there was one piece of data that only reinforced the reason why South Korea was specifically targeted. Japan, a neighbouring country and one that is usually regarded as hotter during summer months, only suffered a 1.48 degree increase compared to South Korea’s 2 degrees. Although a 1.48 degrees of temperature increase is still significant, it was significantly less pronounced than in Korea. 

The reason why Korea suffered more of an increase in temperature is because of a meteorological condition known as the urban heat island effect. The urban heat island effect is a phenomenon where urban areas experience higher temperatures than rural areas, especially at night. There are a few reasons why this can happen. Since urban areas have less plant life than the countryside, there is not enough vegetation available to absorb solar radiation during the day. Surfaces such as concrete or tar trap more heat than dirt roads. Korea’s prized skyscrapers and rooftops, usually made of concrete, produce the same effect as the pavement. All three of these geographical conditions of the Seoul Metropolitan area gradually heat up the area, resulting in hotter days, even hotter nights, and an ideal mating space for lovebugs. Add to the fact that Korea had an exceptionally short monsoon season, forcing more lovebugs to move to wooded or mountainous areas that pack more moisture. Bingo. 

On one hand, the lovebug infestation seems like a major climate disaster. Our daily life of burning more carbon-based fuels into the atmosphere, and various other means we take to only heat up our Earth, has presented various problems, including this one, which seems superficially more annoying and more of a nuisance than some of the other issues we face in the world today.

Looking on the flip side, however, these bugs are completely harmless and sport no danger to humans. However, the measures farmers and residents are taking to eliminate them present new problems. Using pesticides to eradicate them on a large scale, for example, is not a totally sound way, as other organisms and plant life might be killed in the process.

Although the lovebug crisis is over now, as we nearly reach the end of July, public patience has worn thin after the swarm. We as humans might be devastated, or even afraid that an infestation as irritating as this of not-so-lovely bugs occurred through the course of our actions. It seems like, however, flowers are busy enjoying the effects of mass pollination, and magpies are enjoying a feast of insects and larvae they have never seen before.

Woodstock, 1969

For us guitar players, when we hear the word Woodstock, we are immediately taken back in time to the first time we heard Jimi Hendrix’s four-minute symphony titled “Woodstock Improvisation” or Santana on Soul Sacrifice. But for some time, my knowledge of the infamous three-day festival in upstate New York stopped there. My understanding of its influence on 60s counterculture, rock and roll, and future music performances amounted to a bare minimum. But after being exposed to the madness of the festival through images and videos, I decided to forget about Jimi and Carlos for a second and simply dig in.

One of the biggest aspects of the festival I noticed almost immediately was its shortcomings. From its planning all the way to its end, the festival was riddled with failures, delays, and unexpected events. For instance, the founders of Woodstock, Michael Lang, Artie Kornfield, Joel Rosenman, and John P Roberts’ choices for the venue were rejected by local law enforcement, attorneys, and residents a total of three times. Although the original plan for its venue was a site in the town of Woodstock, local residents rejected the idea. The creators found a second candidate in that of a farm in Saugerties, New York, but it was once again rejected by the local attorney. The men tried for a third time, in a 300-acre venue in Wallkill, but were rejected when residents heard that 50,000 people would be attending the festival. In the end, Lang settled on a dairy farm owned by Max Yasgur. It was a beautiful location; Yasgur’s farm was a natural bowl sloping down to a nearby pond, offering visitors spectacular views of the surrounding hills. Lang, Kornfield, and Rosenman were still under the impression that a maximum of 50,000 people would be attending.

On the day of the performance, a peak of 450,000, 9 times what the officials had expected, showed up at Yasgur’s farm. The small highway and the narrow roads of Upstate New York only delayed their arrival with a giant traffic jam. According to local law enforcement, the traffic jam stretched up to 20 miles along Route 17B, the small two-lane highway in Bethel, New York. Among these drivers were performers in the festival themselves. To control the influx of vehicles, the NYPD shut off the New York State Thruway, blocking cars unassociated with Woodstock from passing. When the jam did not seem to clear up, helicopters were employed to make sure performers arrived on time. The attendees, meanwhile, started walking, leaving their cars behind on the road. 

This initial delay resulted in even more setbacks. When the arrival of the first performers, the band Sweetwater, was delayed, Ritchie Havens and Indian guru Swami Satchidananda were moved up to the opening acts. Havens was forced to pull off a 47-minute segment to stall time. While doing this, he came up with a five-minute improvisation based on the word “freedom”, which became one of his biggest anthems. 

When Sweetwater arrived and performed as the third act, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, Mother Nature turned its back on Woodstock. A terrible rainstorm hurtled its way through the farm. 

Ravi Shankar, the Indian classical musician, was the first act to play through the rainstorm. The large open field encompassing the bowl turned into a giant, sloshing pit of mud. Almost all of the gear brought on to support Woodstock was damaged and suffered technical difficulties. Many attendees were forced to sleep in their sleeping bags, lathered in mud and rain, while others opted to stay up and play in the mud, intoxicated. Because of the extemporaneous changes in the setlist, many highly anticipated acts, such as famed folk-singer Joan Baez, were delayed to slots early in the morning, when nobody was awake. Although there were constant difficulties due to the rain, there were many highlight performances, including the Grateful Dead, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Who, Jefferson Airplane, and, of course, Jimi Hendrix and the Band of Gypsys. 

But looking back, these failures, setbacks, and difficulties played a major role in shaping how we view Woodstock today. If it wasn’t for Sweetwater’s delay, we probably would not have ever experienced Ritchie Havens’ “Freedom” or the image of bored attendees dancing in the mud and swimming in the pond.

At the same time, Woodstock’s shortcomings do not act as the entire explanation for its infamous reputation. Drugs, such as marijuana and LSD, were a big part of the entire festival. Despite the sale of drugs being illegal, the law enforcement and security present at the festival amounted to only 346 off-duty officers from the NYPD. The scarcity of officers made it so that Woodstock became a bubble separate from the rest of the world. Attendees traded substances with each other, and two even died of overdoses. Carlos Santana recalls the time he performed at Woodstock while completely intoxicated with LSD given to him by Grateful Dead guitarist Jerry Garcia. As he recounts, “As soon as I took it, it was like poof, everything became another dimension…and then I see this face coming and saying if you don’t play now, you’re not going to play at all.”

Perhaps the most important aspect of Woodstock, however, is its resounding message of peace and love. In 1969, the United States was in the midst of the Vietnam War, and most of the attendees at Woodstock consisted of “hippies”, who stood for non-violence and peace. Woodstock, in essence, strove to be a countercultural utopia, where the audience would forget about the outside world and be united under Mother Nature, great music, and fellow music enthusiasts. Woodstock wasn’t just there for the music, but rather treated music as a catalyst, as a means of expression, bringing everything: peace, love, solace, unity, and freedom, all into a singular venue. For people who were there at Max Yasgur’s dairy farm, it isn’t Hendrix that springs to their mind the first time, but it is peace, love, and the irreplicable spirit of freedom. 

Why Do We Pay Attention to Satire?

One of the highlights of my history class last year was analyzing political cartoons, documents, and other sources and figuring out what they meant. All of this seemed pretty analytical to me at first, but looking at the visual aspects of the sources, especially that of political cartoons, it became very clear to me that all of the design choices, including the layout, structure, and even the font evoked a common theme that the creator was trying to convey. Looking closely at this particular cartoon by Dr. Seuss, whom I only knew as a children’s book author, our entire class let out a resounding noise that can only be explained through this emoji: 😬. 

All jokes aside, Dr Seuss’ comparison of restrictive voting rights before the 24th Amendment to a selective turnstile that no one can pay the price to cross was clever and funny as well as heartbreaking. In its essence, what Seuss produced was a mere cartoon, with childish characters and faces, but what he achieved was a chilling reveal of the millions of Americans who were unable to vote due to harsh and unfair requirements. As I dissected the individual components, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain followed every part. And my curiosity behind this odd feeling grew. 

Satire, the likes we see in publications like The Onion and cartoons such as the one that Dr. Seuss created, by definition, is the use of humor, irony, or exaggeration to expose and criticize people’s stupidity, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues. Humor, in particular, seems to be an important component of satire and its resonance. Perhaps it is the light-heartedness rather than the complex sociopolitical jargon and the frightening statistics that gives a fast and accurate picture of a situation. However accurate, conventional news shows or printed news fail to encapsulate the rather funny moments of an ordeal, or make it digestible to the everyday person. In fact, the emphasis on the frightening aspects of an incident only makes it harder to accept, especially if it applies to the reader or viewer. To some degree, broken promises, impulsive and failed political decisions, and other absurdities have a humorous aspect to them in a sort of witty and laconic way. In the end, wit makes simple, funny moments more dimensional and memorable. 

Another important aspect of satire that makes it impactful is its creativity and complexity behind the humor. Although humor is the first component that readers or viewers pay attention to, upon closer inspection, it is satire’s ability to break through the noise and engulf people with a mixture of cleverness, amazement, and tragedy that hits them next. I came across this cartoon depicting the race for the White House between then-incumbent president Martin Van Buren and Whig party nominee William Henry Harisson. Every chunk of this cartoon fits, almost like a puzzle. Martin Van Buren sits on a golden carriage, symbolizing the glory of the presidency, but is led by a blind horse, signaling his eventual defeat. His carriage flounders in a pile of Clay, representing Henry Clay, who endorsed Harisson in the election. Meanwhile, Harrison’s face is plastered on a steam-powered train, which has “Hard Cider” written over its body and a log cabin situated towards the back, alluding to the nominee’s humble beginnings. What is great about this cartoon, and any satirical political cartoon in that matter, is that each section of the piece contributes to the narrative; one piece cannot exist without the other. Viewers are thus compelled to glue the story together, fostering skepticism and a deeper understanding of the situation, but still retaining the humor and fun from their first viewing. 

But satire is not limited to just cartoons and writing. In the modern era, it is present in much of popular culture, including films, music, and art. A notable example of satire in the art and culture world is the controversial 2021 film Don’t Look Up, where two scientists discover a comet that will destroy planet Earth, and reveal the truth to a government and society who choose to be indifferent and be ignorant of the impending doom. Don’t Look Up models the dynamic between esteemed scientists and those who want to profit on the belief that climate change is a hoax. From a billionaire who wants to rip the comet into fragments to harvest rare minerals, to a news host who jokes about dropping the comet on his ex wife, every character and part of the plot acts as instruments hinting to the bigger picture. Although not as concise as a single article or a cartoon, the film uses mechanisms similar to those mediums that exude feelings of satire without deliberately exaggerating them to make them seem undeniably familiar. It is this adaptability of satire that makes it resonate amongst audiences across genres. 

Perhaps the most important quality of satire that forces audiences to pay attention to is its ability to make intangible events seem human. In conventional media, political issues often feel impersonal and inapplicable to the everyday human and can often seem abstract. Although humor, creativity, and adaptability break the first three barriers of this abstraction, it is the overt humanness of satire that delivers the final blow. Through the depiction of politics through cartoons, powerful world leaders perform outlandish acts: scrambling to get the biggest slice of Africa cake or slay a multi-headed monster with a giant sword. Overwhelmingly large concepts such as the economy and the national deficit are stripped down to everyday objects such as boats and a bursting balloon. It labels flawed political judgment as out of touch or miscalculated, but at the same time makes it seem like an everyday mistake, such as leaving the oven on. However dire a situation seems, it is the human quality of satire that makes us laugh in utter heartbreak.