The Korean alphabet consists of twenty-four basic symbols- vowels and consonants- that can be combined into intricate syllables, words, and finally sentences. The language is one of the only ones ever 'created,' rather than adapted from previous languages and symbols, and the alphabet itself is thought to be one of the most logical in the world.

It is at once simple and deeply complex, as each consonant symbol mimics the shape of the mouth when saying the sound of it, while each vowel symbol is based on the I Ching- each one standing for either human, earth, or the heavens. This essentially means that, whenever someone delicately strokes their pen across paper to create a Korean a, e, i, o, or u, they are connecting with a higher spirituality- it gives new meaning to 'communicating with God.'

The Korean alphabet, to the untrained eye, however, appears more like Cro-Magnon cave paintings than enlightened text. Each symbol- to me, at least- more closely resembles those primitive drawings where (man) + (stick) inevitably equals (food).

If only that were the case, though. As it stands, I still haven't figured out which symbols, grouped together, do equal (food)- or, at least, good food. It seems that, until I divine the meaning of the Korean alphabet, I am doomed to dine out at the golden arches- the most universal of all symbols.