Here’s more photos from that Twitter stream:
probably
I think I can understand why the photographer might have thought this photo was good, even magnificent. Imagine that the three-quarter pose is noble and self-assured. Imagine the squinty eyes are the steely gaze of a patriot gazing into the future, planning how to protect his endangered nation. Imagine that’s not a smirk. It’s the expression of a man determined to prevail no matter what his enemies throw at him. His hair is tossed by the wind of Freedom; the orange glow is the morning sun rising on a new, greater America. Imagine this, then ignore everything else. When people worship an idol, they simply can’t see anything but their ideal. This is a Kim Jong Un photograph, and just like North Koreans see a magnificent hero rather than Fat Elvis on horseback, Trump worshipers will never see an orange-hued, fat old crook.
Kim Il-Sung would have been a better example
The growth was benign but inoperable, but he was understandably a bit sensitive about it (wouldn’t we all be?).
I’m surprised he hasn’t yet secretly had someone offed for their entire hairy scalp and had it transplanted.
You got something on the back of your neck there… hold still, don’t move, I’ll get it…
Well ain’t that the goddamned truth in a nutshell.
Also from The Guardian, this:
Kim Jong Un styles himself to look like his grandfather as a young man.
The imagery of Kim Jong Un riding horses and making pilgrimages to Mount Paektu ties into the mythology of Kim Il Sung’s exploits as a guerrilla leader who supposedly defeated the Japanese colonial regime.
Apropos of nothing special
I was going to post a three part image about how everyone cried at the end of Ole Oranger, but it’s probably over the edge of community standards. So visualize it.
“Finish the job, son.”
The empty chair that won the debate with Clint Eastwood make a better president.