The Time Kim Jong-il Ate Six Beagle-Sized Rabbits
In 2006, an armored limousine rolled into the driveway of rabbit breeder Karl Szmolinsky. As Szmolinsky recalls, the vehicle contained more or less the entire staff of Germany’s North Korean Embassy.
Szmolinsky prided himself on the size and quality of his beagle-sized rabbits; the North Koreans shared his taste. “22 pounds… 22 pounds!…” one of the visitors kept repeating. The guests explained that they were hoping to purchase some of the rabbits for a breeding program — to help feed starving children in their country. Excited to contribute to a good cause, Szmolinsky offered a discount and promptly parted with his six biggest bunnies.
In nighttime satellite images, North Korea is a patch of darkness between expanses of light. Like a black hole, this alien world doesn’t emit light, information, or even goods. And yet a handful of items sneak through—or are pushed through — the tightly controlled borders. Paradoxically, the objects that do cross the North Korean frontier tend to be like Szmolinsky’s rabbits: obscenely large.
