oppa_

🧌

Another miss Oh (Drama) 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

That’s just your personal opinion, not a fact.
Just because my views don’t align with yours doesn’t make them “barking.”
Everyone has the right to express their opinions—even when they differ from yours.
Respect that right instead of acting like a fascist trying to silence dissent.
Freedom of speech applies to everyone, not just those you agree with.

never heard of anyone like that...

"Why blame only the script? When the performance is praised, it's the actor who gets all the credit—and a bigger paycheck—not the writer. But when it's criticized, suddenly it's the script's fault? You can’t have it both ways."

> Why is it “disgusting” to say I watch dramas for the female lead? When did I ever say it was to fulfill some sexual fantasy?

And even if someone did watch something for attraction — why is that automatically shameful? There’s a whole legal global industry built around sexual expression.

But when women openly fangirl over male idols, drool over abs, or write fantasy fanfics — that’s called “cute,” “normal,” or “empowering.” So why does it become “disgusting” only when a man appreciates a woman?

Sounds like selective outrage and pseudo-feminism. Equality means the standards apply to everyone — not just when it's convenient for one gender.

So when someone’s opinion doesn’t match yours, it becomes barking — but if it matches, suddenly it’s gospel? Freedom of speech isn’t barking,
Just because you don’t like what’s said doesn’t mean it’s noise.

Because most of people are trash themselves so they want to protect other 🗑️ like them.

How is that not evil? He sued someone who accused him of rape—and because the burden of proof in Korea is unfairly placed on the victim, she couldn't prove it and ended up in jail.

Korean law is structured in a way that protects the accused more than the victim, even in rape cases. Rapists often get away with just probation, while someone who fails to prove the accusation can be jailed for defamation. How does that make sense?

Imagine being a victim and then ending up behind bars just because you couldn’t prove it—does that sound like justice?

He wasn't the only actor in the whole show, you know. Also, just because I don’t like a male actor doesn’t mean I can’t watch a drama. I’m a straight guy, so obviously I don’t watch shows for male leads—I watch them for the female lead or the story, like many others do.

And calling someone a “stalker” while replying to my comment uninvited? That’s some next-level projection. Maybe check the mirror first.

You asked why I watched Dear Hyeri if I don't like him—well, I’m a straight male, so obviously I don’t like other men that way. I started watching it because Shin Hye Sun was in it, and I genuinely like her work. But I dropped the show after it disappointed me.

And just so you know, "barking" is something people like you do when you can't handle opinions that differ from yours. I was simply stating mine.

who is she ?

I dropped it, didn’t I? I clearly said his performance was terrible. And just because I’m straight doesn’t mean I can’t watch something with a male lead—by that logic, every straight guy should stop watching 90% of movies. Makes no sense. 😑

Sadly, that is the reality of America under Emperor Trump’s reign. Mass fear, racial profiling, and rights violations are becoming routine. Thank god I’m not American—I’d rather watch the downfall from a distance than live it.

They just wanted to cash the hype of season one has long as they can..

Season 1 of Squid Game set a high standard for drama—tense, emotional, and unforgettable. But Season 2 and 3 didn’t just fall short of surpassing it—they couldn’t even capture 10% of what made the first season great—total disappointment.

India, despite being labeled a “developing country” or “third world” by many, responded to the horrific 2012 Nirbhaya gang rape case with nationwide protests, legal reform, and ultimately the death penalty for the perpetrators. The public demanded justice, and the state responded by amending the Indian Penal Code in 2013 to allow for stricter punishments, including the death penalty in the most brutal rape cases or repeat offenses.

And even though India's system has flaws, and not every victim gets justice, at least the laws have evolved. At least the government acknowledged that lenient sentencing was no longer acceptable in the face of rising public anger. The message was clear: rape, especially in its most violent forms, will be met with the strongest possible punishment.

Now compare that to South Korea—a rich, advanced, OECD nation with global soft power, top-tier legal institutions, and an advanced democracy. Why hasn’t it done the same?

Where are the legal reforms after cases like Na-yeong, who was just 8 years old and left permanently disabled by a pedophile who walked out of prison after 12 years?

Why is probation still commonly given to convicted rapists—even in cases where the victim suffers serious trauma?

Why are women being jailed for defamation simply because they failed to prove rape in court—a system where proving rape is notoriously difficult due to lack of physical evidence or social support?

South Korea has the full capacity to reform its laws, and its people have protested many times. But somehow, when it comes to women’s rights and protection, those reforms never come. That’s not about being “civilized” or “developed” anymore—it’s about political will and cultural attitudes.

If India, a nation often criticized for its gender issues, can pass sweeping rape law amendments, why hasn’t South Korea followed? Especially when South Korea has far more institutional capacity to implement and enforce such reforms?

So again—this isn’t about saying one country is perfect and another is broken. It’s about demanding that a developed country like South Korea live up to the standards it has already achieved in so many other areas. Justice for women shouldn’t be the last thing that catches up.

I appreciate your point, and to clarify: I never called South Korea a “shithole.” That’s not my view, nor would I ever use that kind of disrespectful language toward a country I actually admire in many ways. I’ve praised South Korea repeatedly—for its handling of COVID, its technological leadership, cultural exports, and its rise as a developed global power. My criticism is not about tearing the country down, but holding it to a higher standard because it is a developed and influential nation—not Sudan, not Haiti, not a war-torn or lawless region. South Korea belongs to the OECD and should be compared accordingly.

Now, when I say it’s a “rape heaven”—I don’t mean for everyone. I mean for certain groups: South Korean elites, celebrities, and even foreign figures like U.S. soldiers stationed there, who have long had a history of walking away from serious crimes without real consequences. That phrase is uncomfortable—but it reflects the reality of how poorly victims are treated, how rarely predators face real justice, and how often light sentences like probation are handed down even for brutal crimes.

Let me ask a simple question: what would Kris Wu be doing now if he had committed those rapes in South Korea instead of China? In China, he’s serving 13 years—even as a Canadian citizen. Would Korea have done that? Most likely, he would’ve gotten a 1-2 year sentence—suspended with probation. That’s not justice. That’s a system that protects rapists and gives them a second chance to rape again, not victims.

Or take the case of Lee Kyung-young—convicted of raping a minor under the guise of giving her a role. He served just a few months and is now back working in the industry, earning money, holding power, and likely still abusing that power. He’s casting in TV shows alongside top actors like nothing happened. That’s the reality of the system.

Or Lee Jin-wook’s case—where even though the woman accusing him couldn’t prove the case (which happens often in sexual assault because of lack of evidence), she was sent to jail for defamation. So now the message is: if you accuse someone powerful and can’t win the case, you go to prison. That discourages every future victim from coming forward, no matter how real their trauma is.

And then there’s the Na-yeong case, one of the most horrific child rape cases in South Korea. Her rapist was released after serving just 12 years—despite destroying an 8-year-old girl’s body and life. What kind of developed justice system lets that happen? Would that happen in France, Canada, or Germany?

And yes, as Harvard’s Kennedy School article documents, being drunk is still considered a legal defense for rape in Korea. That is not acceptable in a modern legal system. Drunkenness should not reduce responsibility for committing violent sexual crimes.

So again, this isn’t about trashing the country—it’s about demanding better from a system that should no longer be giving excuses, soft punishments, or victim-blaming. South Korea has every capacity—economically, legally, socially—to lead in gender justice. But right now, it’s lagging behind even as it shines in other areas.

Wanting better for Korea doesn’t mean hating it. It means holding it to the standard it deserves.

I completely agree with you that every country has its flaws and no society is perfect—problems are part of any functioning system, and as you rightly said, solving one just brings new ones to light. I also agree that South Korea has made incredible strides in development and innovation—during COVID, for instance, it was one of the fastest and most efficient nations in Asia to respond, showing world-class public health infrastructure and social discipline. That's a huge credit to the country and one of the many reasons it's recognized as a developed, first-world nation.

But that’s exactly why the criticism toward its social and legal handling of gender issues matters so much. When a country is held up as a global example of technological and economic development, it shouldn’t seek comfort in saying “well other places are worse.” Yes, Haiti or Sahel nations have far more brutal realities and weaker institutions—but South Korea isn’t in that category. It has the power, the resources, and the political stability to enact serious legal reform and change social norms far more effectively than poorer nations can. That’s why the bar for South Korea should be higher.

The problem isn’t just about rape cases or their media coverage—it’s about how the justice system, police, and public discourse still often treat women and victims of gender-based violence. From hidden camera crimes to stalking cases that end in murder, the consistent leniency in punishment and the normalization of victim-blaming show that the mindset still hasn't caught up with the country’s economic status.

So yes, it’s not a “rape heaven” like you said—and I agree that term can be too emotionally charged or misleading when taken literally—but there is a cultural and institutional problem that remains unaddressed in a country that otherwise functions at a very high standard globally. Praising its success doesn’t mean ignoring its failings. Just like you wouldn't expect Germany or Japan to compare themselves to Yemen or Sudan when discussing human rights, South Korea shouldn’t excuse regressive attitudes by pointing to less developed nations. It has the tools to lead Asia in gender equality, but right now, it's still lagging in that area.

You raise some important points, and I agree with much of your broader perspective—especially about not rushing to call any modern democracy an outright dystopia. The US, for all its flaws, still maintains checks and balances, and you're right that political bias often skews perceptions depending on who's in power. That said, I think you're missing a deeper historical and structural critique that goes beyond just Elon Musk or the 2024 election.

It’s not about one man or one administration—this issue of elite influence has been long studied. For example, Princeton University professor Martin Gilens and Northwestern’s Benjamin Page published a peer-reviewed study (2014) that showed that ordinary Americans have little to no independent influence on public policy. Instead, policy outcomes tend to reflect the preferences of economic elites and organized business interests, regardless of public opinion. This isn’t a new Trump-era phenomenon—it goes back decades, through the Bush and Obama years too. So yes, it’s not just about Trump or Musk; it's systemic.

When we talk about lobbying, it's not simply "existing"—it dominates. Goldman Sachs, for instance, has historically been one of the biggest donors to both Republican and Democrat campaigns. And yes, they’ve had outsized influence over policymaking, with former employees (from both parties) taking key roles in government. That’s not a conspiracy—it’s a pattern.

Trump's cabinet had 13 billionaires and numerous Goldman Sachs alumni, including Steve Mnuchin (Treasury Secretary). But that doesn’t make Trump unique—it just made the arrangement more visible. Obama had Wall Street insiders too, and Rishi Sunak, as you mentioned, had deep financial ties via his Goldman Sachs background and his ultra-wealthy in-laws. These aren’t isolated events—they illustrate how wealth and policy often overlap.

You also mentioned the justice system, especially in OECD countries, and I partly agree. Yes, in general, OECD nations have stronger institutions than many third-world countries. But “stronger” doesn’t mean “immune.” South Korea's former presidents were prosecuted for corruption involving Samsung, yet Samsung heir Lee Jae-yong was ultimately pardoned. Why? Many believe it’s because the nation's economy is so dependent on a handful of chaebols like Samsung. That’s not a justice system operating independently—it's a compromise between law and economic power.

As for the US justice system, yes—it can investigate and even convict powerful people. But that doesn’t mean it’s a level playing field. You’re right: in theory, Elon Musk would be investigated like anyone else. But in practice, how many elite tech billionaires, Hollywood executives, or corporate heads have truly faced justice for serious crimes? Harvey Weinstein is a rare case, but many others (including known predators in entertainment) were protected for decades by wealth, NDAs, and legal firewalls. Some still get awards and praise in Hollywood.

So, yes—the US is not a failed state or a dystopia, and it's fair to push back against exaggerated claims. But that shouldn’t make us blind to structural oligarchy, elite capture, and how often money distorts justice and democracy, even in “advanced” countries. The critique isn’t fearmongering—it’s about recognizing patterns that go deeper than partisan politics.