#Idol

Idol pop is a mass ceremony packaging transparent voices and over-the-top service spirit to drag listeners' hearts to a precarious cliff. Its flamboyant costumes and flawless formations can be seen as a ritual praising uniformity in the name of individuality. The lyrics may read like sweet, innocent spells, but in reality, they are the crystallization of a marketing strategy designed to stoke various consumer desires. Behind the glitter lies the exhaustion and anxiety required to maintain a perfect smile.

An Image of God is a talisman crafted from stone or wood in which humans project the unfathomable divine, thus indulging in the comforting self-deception of tangible faith. Worship becomes a ceremony of self-adoration, involving meticulous model-making and lavish praise for an inert figurine. Should faith falter, the idol’s worth wavers in tandem, sending worshippers on a frantic quest for repair or replacement. Prayer then is as much a ritual of spiritual purification as it is a touch-up of chipped paint, and the line between the two remains delightfully blurred.

K-pop is a music franchise exporting standardized charm at high speed. Armed with intense visuals and synchronized dance, it demands unwavering loyalty from an ever-multiplying fandom. It repeats fleeting trends endlessly, like a global market where emotions fluctuate in real time. Audiences find their identities shaken in the loop, unknowingly becoming puppets of consumption.

A totem is a carved object that pretends to bind a community, yet its true function is to adorn authority and conceal the void at the heart of belief. It demands reverence while deflecting genuine inquiry. It stands as a tangible emblem of faith even as it distances itself from honest questioning. Oscillating between primeval forest rites and modern empty ceremonies, it compels us to pretend we believe in something.