"Nick, old sport, I don't understand a word this fellow says, but—I can't say why—this particular song of his speaks to me somehow," Gatsby said to me at one of his parties that summer. The singer on stage was a Korean, on whom Gatsby had seized the moment he arrived in West Egg: nothing would do but that this Korean and his band provide the music at one of Gatsby's sensational parties; a whole fortnight's-worth of them, if it could be arranged.
Gatsby couldn't say why "Gangnam Style" spoke to him, but I, having studied a little Korean while I was at Yale, fancied I could. To me, the words of "Gangnam Style" could almost have been written about Gatsby. The song's narrator is a man of great personal presence: he speaks of big ideas and a heart bursting in the night; he boasts of drinking hot coffee in one gulp and seems confident that the girl he addresses is unable to resist him.
Yet when one looks a little closer at him, he is not quite as he first appears. The wealthy neighbourhood of Gangnam in Seoul is an obsession for him, just as East Egg was always in Gatsby's thoughts; yet though the singer mentions this neighbourhood dozens of times, elevating its name to the level of a mantra, he never suggests for a moment that he comes from Gangnam or resides there. The most he can claim is that he possesses the "Gangnam style", a kind of imitation of the way of life enjoyed by Gangnam's high-born residents, which, though in all probability equally expensive, can never possess the authenticity which is bestowed upon those fortunate people at birth.
As the song draws to its conclusion, the singer repeats, over and over again, "뛰는 놈 그 위에 나는 놈"—"on top of the running man is the flying man". I never heard a more perfect evocation of Gatsby's character. As the conscious man ran to catch what he could never truly possess, the dreaming Gatsby was forever floating above his head, looking back the way he had come into a past that became ever more remote, ever more dreamlike. Years later, a fellow whom I had known at Yale told me that the phrase was a Korean proverb whose meaning was simply, "There is always someone better than you, no matter how hard you try"—and that, too, in its way, applied to Gatsby. Yet since that night when "Gangnam Style" rang out through the windows of Gatsby's house and across his moonlit lawn, I have always seen that image when I think of Gatsby: a man running, ever onward, ever onward, stretching out his arms to catch that life that always eludes him, while above his head, the spirit of his dreams floats, reaching back, bearing him back into the past, as invisible as a ghost yet as strong as a god.
It looks nice, but the last Huawei phone I used had a horrible bastardized android interface. Granted that was a couple of years ago, can anyone comment on how their recent phone's version of android is?
Comments
Gatsby couldn't say why "Gangnam Style" spoke to him, but I, having studied a little Korean while I was at Yale, fancied I could. To me, the words of "Gangnam Style" could almost have been written about Gatsby. The song's narrator is a man of great personal presence: he speaks of big ideas and a heart bursting in the night; he boasts of drinking hot coffee in one gulp and seems confident that the girl he addresses is unable to resist him.
Yet when one looks a little closer at him, he is not quite as he first appears. The wealthy neighbourhood of Gangnam in Seoul is an obsession for him, just as East Egg was always in Gatsby's thoughts; yet though the singer mentions this neighbourhood dozens of times, elevating its name to the level of a mantra, he never suggests for a moment that he comes from Gangnam or resides there. The most he can claim is that he possesses the "Gangnam style", a kind of imitation of the way of life enjoyed by Gangnam's high-born residents, which, though in all probability equally expensive, can never possess the authenticity which is bestowed upon those fortunate people at birth.
As the song draws to its conclusion, the singer repeats, over and over again, "뛰는 놈 그 위에 나는 놈"—"on top of the running man is the flying man". I never heard a more perfect evocation of Gatsby's character. As the conscious man ran to catch what he could never truly possess, the dreaming Gatsby was forever floating above his head, looking back the way he had come into a past that became ever more remote, ever more dreamlike. Years later, a fellow whom I had known at Yale told me that the phrase was a Korean proverb whose meaning was simply, "There is always someone better than you, no matter how hard you try"—and that, too, in its way, applied to Gatsby. Yet since that night when "Gangnam Style" rang out through the windows of Gatsby's house and across his moonlit lawn, I have always seen that image when I think of Gatsby: a man running, ever onward, ever onward, stretching out his arms to catch that life that always eludes him, while above his head, the spirit of his dreams floats, reaching back, bearing him back into the past, as invisible as a ghost yet as strong as a god.
Source
Tattúínárdǿla Saga
I was hoping that the software would be a bit cleverer than that.
This guy makes the best stuff.
http://www.gameinformer.com/b/features/archive/2013/06/19/peter-molyneux-reviews-iphone-fart-apps.aspx