How We Came to Stream Our Own Silence
A warm yellow desk lamp, Lofi Girl on the screen. Ambient lofi beats in the background. Her presence is familiar to those who often study with music. For many, she has become a companion—a source of comfort in an oversaturated, overstimulating world. Yet, the fact that this peace we feel by being with her is curated and consumed digitally raises important questions. How does the digitization of peace reshape our understanding of it? What does it say about us when the calm we now seek is one that is carefully constructed rather than found in nature? Is it comfort that we truly want or control?To understand this digitized shift, we must first look back. The desire for quietude is not a modern phenomenon. Long before our digital age, humans sought tranquility in the natural world—the sound of falling rain, the rustle of leaves, the warmth of sunlight. Indeed, this human inclination spans across centuries and cultures. From Eastern ink-and-wash painting of the 8th century to the natural world in Western Romantic poetry of the 19th century, nature has always been instinctively and aesthetically associated with peace and calm. This longing for solace can also be seen in other meditative practices such as incense burning, which has been known for its therapeutic effects, or the design of Zen gardens, which are intentionally crafted for quiet reflection. Without a doubt, the desire for serenity has always been universal and deeply human. However, what distinguishes our search for quietude today from the efforts of the past is the presence and role of technology. We no longer seek peace solely in the unpredictable world of nature. Now, we turn to digital spaces that can shape it to our exact preferences, with the touch of a screen or the click of some keys. We create playlists of nature sounds and lofi beats. We play long videos of cozy bedrooms with soft crackling fire. Using pixels and sound waves, we now construct our individual visions of calm. I felt this digitized shift acutely when I spent an entire afternoon without my headphones. As I strolled through the streets, I suddenly became aware of how loud everything was. I could hear the sound of people chattering, the roar of buses and car engines, and the blare of advertisements from loudspeakers. And it was not because the streets had changed; it was that I had grown used to filtering out the noise. Without my headphones, I was confronted with an overload of sounds. Just as I use headphones to block out the noisy streets, our turn towards digital tranquility is not only a change in tools, but a response to our current condition. In an age of digital overstimulation, our desire for peace is stronger than ever. Think about how often we talk about the importance of slowing down and staying grounded. What cannot be ignored, however, is the fact that the very technology that overwhelms us is also the medium through which we actively construct our spaces of calm. The devices and the platforms that contribute to sensory overload are what we actively turn to for healing and relaxation. It is quite paradoxical—we seek refuge in a system never designed for stillness. Moreover, there are now no limits to when and where we can curate calm. Even while being out, we can and often do escape into our inner worlds, a sign of a modern cultural tendency toward withdrawal. This distancing from reality reflects a deep human desire for control. In our digitized reality, we prefer aestheticized, tailored peace over the rawness of the real, shaping not just our surroundings but our emotional states within them. Thus, this makes one wonder—does our ability to slip away into our curated spaces offer a healthy refuge, or does it disconnect us from the richness of the present moment? In the end, though the digital calm we create may not be perfect, it reflects an intrinsic need within us for control and stillness. This form of peace allows for introspection, even though its digitized nature is inherently different from the tranquility found in the natural world. Perhaps that is the point: streaming our silence is an attempt to be still amidst chaos—to feel, if only for a moment, truly at peace in a world that rarely offers such reprieve.
Toasting to Idols: A Dive into Korea’s Birthday Cafe Phenomenon
One day, you pass by a cafe decorated with eye-catching banners and posters of a K-pop idol. Due to curiosity or perhaps because you’re craving an Americano, you decide to step inside. The interior of the cafe has even more items related to the idol on display—photocards, hand crafts, balloons, and autographed memorabilia. Huge screens play close-up shots of the idol in various performances, as their hit songs echo throughout the space. You’re not sure why, but these elements pique your interest. At the counter, you proceed to make your order, which comes in a set with a drink in a themed paper cup, some snacks with the idol’s photo cards, and stickers. Looking around, you see a group of customers arranging all these items on their table to take pictures, another walking around viewing what’s on display, and a third discussing the idol’s comeback album. This cafe is what’s known as a birthday cafe or saeng-ka (생카, abbreviated from 생일 카페). Unique to Korean fandom culture, such cafes are rented by individual fans or entire fan communities to celebrate the birthdays of their favorite K-pop idols. While there is no traceable record for the origin of birthday cafes, they have undoubtedly become an indispensable part of the fan experience over the years. During a popular idol’s birthday month, maps on fandom applications like Offmate are filled with birthday cafe listings from all over Korea, highlighting their popularity. These cafes feature idol-specific merchandise and run interactive activities, such as lucky draws. Visitors also typically receive merchandise when they order from a designated menu, with different sets offering different items. Extensive preparation goes into organizing a birthday cafe event. Fans collect merchandise, decorate venues, and negotiate with cafe owners purely out of a passion for their favorite idols. This is an undoubtedly costly process, but it can be spiritually rewarding. According to ChosunBiz, preparations for a single birthday cafe can take up to two months and cost more than one million won. Nonetheless, despite the cost, the birthday cafe phenomenon continues to grow in popularity and has even expanded to involve characters outside of the entertainment industry. Jesus, King Sejong, Isaac Newton, and Admiral Yi Sun-sin are just a few notable examples. One such birthday cafe event, organized in honor of the famous physicist Isaac Newton, featured academic talks by scholars. These cases illustrate how birthday cafe culture is becoming much more diverse and engaging. They also have the potential to attract the attention of a broader public, introducing the culture to those who are not familiar with K-entertainment. At the same time, birthday cafe culture provides significant economic benefits for many small and medium-sized business owners. According to an article by MoneyS, the daily sales of a cafe that specializes in event organization can reach up to 2. 9 million per birthday cafe event. This huge potential profit is enjoyed by the owners of several different businesses, providing them with more sources of income. In terms of the provision of services, cafe owners often supply the venue and beverages, confectionery production businesses create food items such as cookies with edible prints, and customized products manufacturers contribute merchandise and other idol-related items, based on the request of fans or cafe owners. Following the global spread of the K-wave, birthday cafe culture has also now arrived in countries abroad. There, the “idols” celebrated are no longer limited to Korean artists but also include local celebrities. This fusion of Korean fandom culture and the cafe experience is both unique and incredibly profitable, driving its steady growth. On top of being a successful business model, birthday cafes also provide an accessible platform where fans can express their admiration for their favorite idols. Given the strong impetus of the birthday cafe phenomenon and its expansion to include characters outside of K-entertainment, we can expect the culture to continue diversifying into the future.
[82nd Edition] Letter from the Editor
Dear readers,Autumn, my favorite season, fled early in 2024, but at least Mother Nature gifted us with the most majestic first snow. Alongside the winter breeze, I wrapped up my second year at university and Quill. Within these years of change, I’ve experienced a chaos of emotions, more intense and varied than ever before. At times I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece, struggling to fit into the broader picture of the school community. But behind the facade to blend in, this feeling of disorder and displacement seem to be shared by everyone in their 20s: ironically, it was this shared sense of isolation that strengthened the bond between me and my fellow members. So whether it was the guilt or the defiance, joy or the sorrow, isolation and its tolerance, I look back, and say, at least it was beautiful. Isn’t that the irony of scattered fragments, disorderly yet weirdly beautiful? Originally, our 82nd theme of Fragments intended to play with this idea, to expand the term’s interpretation beyond its negative connotations. A fragment was once a part of a whole, so is it now unable to fulfill its intended purpose? Or does it gain a new purpose? The world moves at a fast pace—outpacing laws and at times even culture—breaking things along the way. How can we find new beauty, new meaning, in this chaotic world? How do we piece back fragments and reconstruct identity based on this new world? And observe how, though back together, its form has changed, ever so slightly. To the naked eye, white light appears uniform. But when dispersed, it reveals the spectrum of distinct constituting colors: fragments that, though individually vivid, collectively form an illusion of singularity. And just like light passing through a prism, a seemingly singular entity can be dispersed into its many components, where the fragments are not new, but have always existed. The same holds true for identity, whether that of a country, community, or individual: what may ostensibly appear homogeneous, is a collection of all the contradictions, tensions, and individual stories that define it. But perhaps it is only through fragmentation—through dispersion—that we can fully understand what we take for granted. Old stories linger on our campus, and new conflicts emerge. We open SNU Society with a piece on the history of our very own campus, often overlooked in our daily walks to class. Our in-campus investigations continue: from debates on the usage of electric vehicles (whether you love them or hate them) to a critique of the contemporary Student Council which seems to embody a new era of apolitical leadership. But perhaps tensions and disagreements still display a shared endearment towards our university. Beyond campus, Features delves into larger societal shifts and the challenges they create. A look into Sejong City—once an ambitious dream—reveals the administrative failures that reduced it to no more than a lofty vision. We also examine the dilemma law faces as technology giants accelerate innovation while edging toward monopoly. From this macro-level conflict, we zoom in on generational tensions by exploring the rise of No-Kid Zones. Even amid the growing friction in this fragmented society, empathy may offer a path forward. On a more personal scale, a piece analyzes self-help books as a reflection of the mental state of Korean youth. In Arts and Culture, our articles explore memory and its preservation, distortion, and transformation through art. How does digitally assisted memory reshape our perception of nostalgia, and what does the film Past Lives reveal about this theme? How does House of Hummingbird use the female gaze in cinema to portray girlhood, and what does it say about the act of remembering history? Our articles shift to cultural disagreements and societal changes. We turn to the conflict within the Korean Football Association, questioning how this split may sacrifice performance of the league. Alongside these issues, we examine the commodification of self-love, once an act of resistance, now appropriated by corporations; in the over-consumerist setting we live in, how can we reclaim the practice?Finally, the Short Articles section begins with a trilogy that follows the journey of Korean elite athlete trainees and the systemic failures that leave them lost once they leave their dreams of turning professional. In another piece, we look at AI’s growing dominance and a natural resurgence of the necessity for nuclear energy in response to such demands. What Korean dopamine-centric media and the return of the thin beauty ideal reveal about the ever-amplifying influence of social media on modern culture. We discuss the failures of panda conservation policies, the effect of US-China trade conflict on Korea’s automotive industry, and the ongoing issues with safety regulations and traffic accidents on campus. Welcome, readers, to a selection of articles that dissect a seemingly singular entity, fragmenting it into the constituents that form it: whether it be the individual shards of history that shape the present or the current conflicts and divisions that may have gone unnoticed. How, in an ever-changing world, can we reconstruct meaning, identity, and systems?It was a pleasure reading these articles at every stage and having my worldview gently expanded. I express my deepest appreciation to the Quill staff. Each writer has brought admirable talent to the table, and the editors and sub-editors have polished and refined these powerful ideas into the final product we present to you today. To our art team, thank you for bringing all these great ideas to life. Each design and aesthetic decision shaped this issue into something beautiful. And to our photographers who have captured the essence of this edition, I express my admiration for your work that adds depth and dimension to these pages. Last but not least, thank you to the strategic team, for the dedication to make Quill recognized in our school community. Sincerely yours,Joo Young
