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That man is the master of everything means that he is the master of the world and of his own destiny; that man decides everything means that he plays the decisive role in transforming the world and in shaping his destiny.

The philosophical principle of the Juche idea is the principle of man-centred philosophy which explains man's position and role in the world."

                                                                                               ---------- On the Juche Philosophy

Sincere, conscientious party members who seriously attempted to study Juche soon found out there was nothing to study, but the charade was maintained on a national level. Many of the formal classes devoted to studying Juche did little more than memorize speeches and written works by the Kims. The claim, however, that it might actually be the new way to think provided the perfect excuse for isolating an entire people and brutally controlling every facet of their perfect socialist lives, from their share down to their shit -- literally. And that initiated the country’s unraveling across the board, from a justifiably proud nation with a rich history of innovation and culture to something mindlessly backward resembling a giant termite colony.

Songun – or military-first -- meant no exports because there was never enough of anything left over to produce them. No exports meant no hard cash. No hard cash meant no imports, including fuel. No fuel meant no power, and the shortage was so chronic that an entire generation of rural comrades had never seen a town or a village or even a large building lit up at night with that miracle of the modern age: the light bulb. For them, the vision wasn’t a memory the way it was for their parents, and they hungrily anticipated such sights with the promised arrival of the "Great and Prosperous Nation" in 2012 with current Dear Leader Kim Jong-Il at the helm. They would have to be patient, though. Their parents knew better, said nothing, and silently endured a different kind of patience.

But now, even in the country’s capitol – Pyongyang – electricity was not available straight through the night, save for a few choice locations, like the eternal resting place of the people’s eternal Great Leader and Grand Marshal:  the late Kim Il-Sung. In accordance with the North Korean Constitution, he was still running the show.

At one a.m. on the very eve of the Plague, a small brigade of senior party members, technicians and military escorts entered the mega-million-dollar Kumsusan Memorial Palace that housed the sacred mausoleum, and silently but efficiently descended the steps to the lower portion, their backs ramrod-straight and their expressions either completely solemn, profoundly grim, or altogether missing. All wore white cloth gloves.

It was plainly evident that Great Leader’s body – still on display in his glass sarcophagus -- was slowly shrinking. This in spite of the first-class embalming and preservation performed almost two decades earlier by top Russian specialists, and the expensive, meticulous care and maintenance lavished on the tomb and its occupant by their North Korean comrades ever since. About two-thirds of his recumbent form was covered by a blanket, but this highlighted the gradual reduction by providing a close visual reference point for returning pilgrims. After all, they had been convinced by the state that his remains were the greatest sight they would ever behold in their lifetimes, so they would naturally remember as many details as they could.

In Western traditions, lack of bodily corruption had long been held as specific supporting evidence for sainthood, and here was Great Leader, indisputably more-or-less-ish in-the-more-or-less-sallowy-pink, beheld by millions. Arguments for or against sainthood never included shrinking, however, but he was considered by his people to be more god than saint, if only because his countrymen were so isolated from the rest of the world that most of them literally did not know what a saint was. They had been taught what a god was, though, through the compulsory state religion of worshipping the leader: Kim Il-Sung-ism. Maybe shrinking was what happened to a god’s earthly form once it was discarded, but Kim Il-Sung’s remains nevertheless seemed to be slip-sliding down a course that could very well upset the natural order of the universe and his own substantial supernatural aura if left unchecked.

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